Fire Emblem Awakening - Road of the Recusant
by Astral Miracle
Summary: Despair looms over the Shepherds, darker and more terrible than ever before, now that the Fire Emblem is lost. In a desperate bid to avert the dark future that has been foretold, Robin does the unthinkable. The future has changed, and though no one knows where it may lead, the Shepherds have no choice but to follow the road ahead. The road of the Recusant.
1. Foreword

Road of the Recusant is my retelling of the third arc of Fire Emblem: Awakening, set immediately after my retelling of the second arc, labeled "Fire Emblem Awakening – Rise of the Conqueror". Since there have been some plot deviations by the end of the second arc, I highly recommend reading Rise of the Conqueror before attempting to read Road of the Recusant.

As this is a retelling, it will spoil all of the major plot points for Fire Emblem: Awakening, despite the changes I've made.

I do not own Fire Emblem. Fire Emblem, its characters and setting, and any official artwork I've used belong to Intelligent Systems. I do not own Intelligent Systems. This story is rated T for violence, alcohol use, and minor sexual themes (nothing significantly more than what was in the game already).

Trigger warning: There will be themes of suicide and self-sacrifice, and/or references to past events relating to such themes.

At this point, you may wish to skip ahead to the prologue and begin reading. The rest of this page is an extended author's note. It is also written with the assumption that you are familiar with Fire Emblem: Awakening's characters and story.

* * *

><p>Alright, now the introduction and disclaimers are done.<p>

I'm a little worried that I might not have any readers left after that particular plot twist. I've been hinting at it for a while, but still, I wrote it with the intent of keeping the ending ambiguous up until the very last minute. From this point on, the dialogue will deviate even more heavily, as I work around the plot changes _and_ try to iron out the parts of the third arc that I felt were weak.

The epilogue for Rise of the Conqueror and prologue for Road of the Recusant were the two hardest chapters for me to write. That's because I actually started drafting the story from this point. The scene where Lucina confronts Robin is arguably the most powerful scene in the game. At the same time, I feel that the normal variation of this scene was also out-of-character for both of them, although it may simply be because I read too much into their characters.

For one, I don't think Lucina could really have killed Robin. The dialogue between Robin and Lucina if they are related, as husband and wife or mother and daughter, is more fitting with Lucina's character, in my opinion. Lucina may be determined, but at the same time, I can't see her being willing to kill her friend, especially while knowing that he himself is as much a victim as anyone could be. On top of that, her whole theme is hope, isn't it? Resorting to sacrificing your friends is tantamount to surrender, I feel. It's certainly not out of character for her to try, to convince herself she has to do it. But in the end, I don't think she could actually kill Robin.

Robin, on the other hand, is more a matter of personal interpretation. The game offers you a choice, which is reasonable, seeing as each player probably sees Robin a little bit differently. But I think the game also shows you that Robin isn't invincible, even though his friends believe he is. Aversa outplayed him in Castle Plegia. Excellus took him by surprise in Fort Steiger. And Validar caught him off guard in their confrontation after the Valmese war.

The first time, it cost Exalt Emmeryn her life. The second time, most of the Ylissean and Feroxi soldiers were killed, and the war was nearly lost. And the third time, they lost the Fire Emblem. None of these scenarios were really Robin's fault – their opponents just had more information to work with. Because of this, none of Robin's friends really see it as a failure, but Robin himself feels it keenly. If there is a fourth time, the consequences would simply be too great to bear.

Incidentally, that's also why I staggered the introduction of Severa and Morgan. Baby Severa is there to remind Robin of someone entirely helpless, who's counting on him to protect her. The adult Severa arrives a few months later, her closeted personality showing Robin how great the price of failure would be. Morgan is a final complication – Robin _knows_ that Morgan was killed, somehow. He doesn't ask why, because he's afraid to hear the answer, to learn that it was because of one of his failures.

He's also certainly smart enough to have picked up the hints by now, that the developers left for the players. He remembers the strange dream, and he heard Lucina's warning. He must have put the pieces together already; they just didn't make any sense, until Validar uses him to steal the Fire Emblem.

Which leaves him utterly torn. He wants to go home to see his infant daughter. He wants to keep his promise to the adult Severa, and to protect Morgan. He's not ready to leave Cordelia, and he knows how much she's lost already. But at the same time, the risks are too terrible. In the end, he takes the easy way out, and asks Lucina to do it. Only Lucina can't, and only when Chrom comes to him, and shows Robin how much all his friends believe in him, does Robin realize he has no choice.

Incidentally, I feel really bad for Cordelia. Is it normal to feel bad for your own characters? When I started the story, I considered a few possible pairings for Robin. Lissa was one I gave some serious thought to, before rejecting it on account of the fact that Owain simply didn't offer the right contrast in character to Morgan. Kjelle, Gerome, and Severa were the most fitting, but Cherche arrived too late in the story for the timing to work out, and Sully's character doesn't leave a whole lot to work with.

It works out pretty well since Cordelia is definitely among my favorite FE:A characters, with only Morgan being definitively ahead of her. She is introduced when her knight-sisters are all killed, and now she's lost her husband, too. Still, her part in my story hasn't come to an end quite yet.

Speaking of Morgan, while she's easily my favorite character, her character is just one giant inconsistency, hence all the adaptations I made. Let's just start with the obvious – how on earth does a third generation Morgan work? He or she would have to come from a future timeline where the kids _already_ went back in time, and one of them married Robin. On top of that, Morgan managed to grow up along with his/her mother/father, meaning that victory had been achieved already with Robin surviving. If you think about it, Lucina's confrontation with Robin, if they're married, makes absolutely no sense if they've met Morgan.

So, skipping over the obvious plot holes with a third-generation Morgan, the second-generation Morgan storyline has issues, too. I'm not even going to comment on male Morgan's sibling support with Lucina; it's inconsistent enough that there's no explanation needed. But female Morgan's sibling supports all indicate that she definitely _did_ exist in their future. This is almost workable, except for the vague references that Morgan came from an alternate future. Which means we're still missing at least one Morgan. Thank you, time travel.

It's just one giant plot disaster. Thankfully, there's plenty of valid interpretations for it. Anyways, I _will_ be giving some of the second generation characters a little more development during the third arc. While I try to agree with the game's canon whenever possible, it's important to note that these are my interpretations, and therefore aren't canon in themselves.

Excellus's warp powder is a reference to Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance. This part of the game confused me a little bit, how Excellus was able to randomly teleport himself everywhere. And then suddenly couldn't escape from Walhart's castle. Warp powder is a substance that was used by a certain villain, although due to its limitations, he didn't use it too frequently. It's cheating, in a way, but it's easy to borrow lore from other games in the series, and it feels more natural than inventing it completely.

One last thing – the prologue for this section is a bit dark. There's no way about it, considering the unfolding events. I've tried to keep the angst at an appropriate level to reflect how the characters should be feeling, without overpowering the rest of the story. Because, despite the loss, the story still needs to move forward.

If you're still with me, thank you for your attention so far, and I hope you'll enjoy my adaptation of the third arc. Please don't hesitate to offer any feedback, positive or negative.


	2. Prologue: In His Wake

**Prologue: In His Wake**

Libra sighed deeply, his heart beating rapidly despite his efforts to keep his delicate, slender frame steady. "I volunteered for this," Libra reminded himself quietly, keeping his delicate, feminine voice even.

The monk had always lived a difficult life. As a child, he had been cast out by his parents, who believed him to be possessed by demons. He had been a street urchin, unwanted and alone, wretched and friendless. In a nation so recently ravaged by war, there was no one who would stand by those who were rejected even by their own parents.

He drifted through, barely clinging to life. He wandered from town to town. But he was unwilling to deceive those who would possibly stand by him, and when he admitted the truth of why he was alone, he was driven away, sometimes by words, sometimes by sticks and stones, until one day, he found Naga. Naga and her priests and priestesses gave him a chance where others had not. And for two decades he had dedicated his life in service to the divine dragon. Just when he found the light, the darkness had reared its ugly head once more, and snatched Exalt Emmeryn in its gaping maw.

Along with the only family he had ever found, Libra had marched off to Plegia. It was a fool's errand, but one they could not refuse. And he watched as his brothers and sisters succumbed, one by one, to the perils of the road, to the wrath of the risen, or to the greed of bandits, until at last, he arrived at the Plegian capital, alone once more.

Libra knew the pain of loss, and he was a priest. His life's purpose was to bring comfort to those around him. He thought he would be prepared for this.

As his hands trembled, and tears filled his eyes, he knew he thought wrong. Losing his family twice did nothing to cushion the blow he now felt. But he had to remain strong – there were others here, today, who could only be hurting worse than he.

Libra cleared his throat, and carefully slipped a piece of parchment from his pocket.

"I'm… I'm afraid I don't know where to begin," Libra admitted. Silence near absolute, punctuated only by quiet sobs, greeted him, as the sun shined off the polished tombstone at Libra's side. "You all know who he was. You all know what he's done for us. Many of us owe our very lives to him. He was a loyal comrade, a dear friend, a loving husband, and a caring father.

"You all, of course, know his story. He awoke without any knowledge of his past. Like many of us, he was alone, until the Shepherds found him. The Shepherds gave him the gift of family, a gift he returned a thousand times over. Any strengths he had, he devoted to us. He dedicated his talents and efforts to our dreams and our cause.

"He knew this day would come," Libra continued, unfolding the parchment. "When he made his decision, he knew he would be leaving us. He has always been like that. He was a clever man, calculating, and always planning ahead. But he never once let that distance him from us. He never once stopped seeing us as his dearest friends and family, and never once stopped caring for us. I hold in my hand a letter he left behind for us to find, his final attempt to soothe our souls, to apologize for the pain he's brought us."

Libra paused for a moment to clear his throat once more. He had read through the letter once already, and could not imagine the courage that their dear friend had found. Libra prayed silently to borrow even a fraction of their late friend's strength, and steeled his resolve. As he spoke, the audience seemed startled, for though it was Libra's delicate, feminine voice they heard, somehow, each and every one of them could imagine their friend speaking them aloud.

* * *

><p><em>Dearest Shepherds,<em>

_I must admit, I am afraid of what lies ahead. In my heart, I know what must be done, and I am as confident now as I have ever been in any of my plans on any battlefield. But deep down, I know I am weak. I don't think I have the strength to move forward, so in all likelihood, none of you will ever read these words, and learn of my cowardice. My courage will fail me, and I will destroy this letter to hide my shame. To hide my guilt._

_I have not been honest with you. While it is true that when I awoke, it was without memory of my past, I carried within me a single dream, a single vision. Before Chrom and Lissa roused me from my slumber and brought me into your lives, I saw myself, standing side by side with Chrom, standing against a man I now recognize as the Grimleal sorcerer and Plegian king, Validar. Together, Chrom and I fought and defeated Validar. And then, I watched as I lost control and unwittingly destroyed one of our dearest friends, and gazed in horror upon our beloved prince's lifeless body._

_When I first awoke, I recognized Chrom from my dream, having seen myself call out to him by name. Lissa, Chrom, and Frederick may still remember their suspicion when I tried futilely to explain how I could possibly know his name and not my own. Later, upon seeing my own reflection, I recognized myself and remembered my own name, from the dream as well._

_I was searching for my memories at the time. At first, I had hoped my memories would come back one day. I dismissed the dream as nothing but an oddity. After all, there was Chrom, standing beside me, well and alive._

_Not long after, Chrom and I encountered Validar once more. Some of you know this encounter already. Chrom and I fought Validar, or a Grimleal sorcerer who looked just like him, in the garden of the castle in Ylisstol, when he tried to assassinate Exalt Emmeryn. When we slew the sorcerer, and as his remains fell through his unravelling rift, I was reassured that my dream was only a dream, and without further meaning. Chrom was alive, and the adversary we had faced was dead. I put my fears to rest that day, and looked only to the challenges that still lay before us._

_I know not how Validar survived. Perhaps it wasn't Validar after all, but someone who looked just like him. Or perhaps he clung to life long enough for his servants to mend his wounds. But on the day we met with Validar on Carrion Isle, the vile memory came back to me. Later, when we met Lucina, and she warned us that Chrom was in fact betrayed by someone close to him, I began to suspect the truth, which I am now certain of._

_I should have spoken of it sooner, but I was afraid of losing what I had. Chrom, and the Shepherds, had given me family. You all gave me purpose. I was afraid of throwing it all away, so I remained silent, hoping to understand the truth of the vision before I acted. I was a fool, and because of that, the Fire Emblem is lost, and the fell dragon looms over us all. I plead for your forgiveness, although I deserve it not._

_Thankfully, hope is not lost. Hope lives on, in Chrom, and in each and every one of you. I wish I could stand beside you all, facing the challenges ahead together as we have always done, since the first day I can remember. But my road ends here._

_I cannot flee. We know not the extent of Validar's reach. I cannot take the risk of confronting Validar. I have been assured that I am strong enough to confront and defeat Validar's encroachments. But I have my doubts, and the risk is too great. I understand the truth of it now – I am a burden, a piece that must be removed from the playing field if we are to emerge ultimately victorious._

_I know the Shepherds can march on without me. My own daughter, Morgan, has already proved to be as fine a tactician as I could have ever hoped to become, and she has yet to reach her full potential. And she is but one of the clever, capable, and wonderful Shepherds capable of carrying my torch forward. All that remains is to make this final play. To take myself from the board, before I can be turned against you at the critical moment._

_I am afraid. Not of death, of course. Each and every one of us has met death's gaze with our heads held high. We have flirted with death repeatedly over the years, fighting for our cause. I have always been willing to die, fighting for what I believed in, fighting for those I cared for._

_No. I am afraid, not of death, but the pain this may bring to you all. Throughout our adventures, I have contemplated many futures, and the most painful and frightening prospect of them all is the loss of a friend. I still remember the pain of watching Exalt Emmeryn fall to her death. The pain from the loss of mighty Khan Basilio is still raw. I pray that any void I leave will be quickly filled, and that my words can find you, and soothe any pain caused by my passing._

_I am also afraid of abandoning you all. I swore once to protect Chrom with my life, and I am doing that now. But I fear that one day, someone will call for help, and I will not be there to answer. And so, I beg of you, my dearest friends, my family. Stand by each other. I trust in each and every one of you to be there for each other in your mutual times of need, whatever the challenges you face._

_Thank you all, for being there for me. Thank you all, for remaining behind when I could not stay, for giving my purpose life when I can no longer do so myself. I leave our world in your capable hands._

_Should I hold fast in my strength, I will seek out Lucina this very night. She must know the truth already, and her courage in facing the horrors she has to return to our side far surpasses my own. She will know what has to be done as surely as I do. She will lend me the strength I need to carry on._

_In what feels like a lifetime ago, I found myself engrossed in the story of a man who became known simply as the Recusant. He was a prince of a kingdom that sunk into corruption. His own parents and older siblings established a rule he could abide no longer. Finally, he took up arms against them, against an order he knew to be wrong. He found his purpose and gave it his all, even standing against his friends and family to do so. And for that, they stripped him of his name and instead called him a betrayer and a craven._

_A recusant. Someone who could not be controlled. Tonight, that is what I must become. I will not be ruled by Grima. I will defy even you, my dearest friends, in order to what is best for us all. I may lack the courage to do what is right myself, but I will find it in my bonds with all of you, in my memories, and in those who share my dreams._

_Stand by Chrom. Defeat Grima. Banish despair from our land forever, so that peace may return to your lands once more. And please, live to enjoy the peace for as long as you can._

_I wish I could leave you something more. But this is my only legacy – the bonds we've forged together that I pray will be strength enough to see our quest through, and the opportunity to build our dream._

_Farewell, my friends. Farewell, my family._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Robin_

* * *

><p>Libra finished reading the letter aloud, his throat dry. Silent tears formed on the faces of those sitting before him and the gravestone, and he paused for a moment to regain his composure. He rested his gaze on each of his friends, dreading the sight of the pain he knew he would find.<p>

Prince Chrom's face was completely blank, as his wife, Sumia, sobbed quietly into his shoulder. On his other side, Lucina sat perfectly rigid, her gaze resting on her hands, nestled in her lap. Her younger sister, Cynthia, leaned against her shoulder, offering any emotional support she could while wearing a pained expression. Lucina and Chrom had both been eerily silent since Robin took his own life, on that horrible night, three days ago.

Libra turned away, unable to face the Ylissean royal family that had been so thoroughly, emotionally broken. But all around the gathering, he saw only more pain. Many were silently crying, tears dripping steadily, staining their faces and clothing. Others, determined to bury the pain, wore only stony expressions. Finally, his gaze rested upon a beautiful young woman, sitting near the front of the gathering, with her long, normally vibrant red hair hanging disheveled behind her.

Cordelia. Widowed at such a young age, with two grown daughters who had returned from the future sitting by her side, their arms wrapped around her shoulders in a futile attempt to comfort her. Cordelia shook, as tears flowed over the hands she pressed against her eyes. Severa, too, was wracked by grief, and wore an angry, bitter expression, as if wondering how her father could possibly dare abandon her once more. On Cordelia's other side, their younger daughter, Morgan, seemed simply lost. She had been the latest addition to the Shepherds, and had been with them for a mere week, but already, everyone knew the girl had hero-worshipped her father. Her father who was now buried in the cold earth before her.

Libra thought of the Severa of this world, a baby that had been left in Ylisstol along with baby Lucina, and Virion and Olivia's son, Inigo. The girl was only a few months old when they voyaged across the sea to Valm. She would never even remember her father. Libra felt his own warm tears flowing down his cheeks, and decided to continue before his voice failed him completely.

"Robin was wrong," Libra declared quietly. "As always, our friend proved to us that he had always underestimated himself. The night Robin left us, he did indeed find Lucina, and he pleaded with her to end his life.

"The bonds we shared with Robin were strong. Too strong. Lucina would not strike him down. None of us would have, even knowing the truth as she did, even having seen the dark future that lies ahead. But Robin took solace in that. He found his own strength, his own courage, when he realized just how strong our bonds were, and when he learned just how desperate he was to protect us, at any cost," Libra continued throatily.

"In the end, Robin took his own life. He found the strength he thought he lacked. He did what none of us would have allowed him to do. He did what he knew he had to do," Libra concluded, and he turned his gaze up towards the sky.

"Naga, watch over our beloved friend, Robin. Let us share in his strength so that we may forge reality from his dreams. Let him watch over us, protecting us forevermore, as he has always done since we met. Lend us the strength to move past our own grief, so that we might continue his work. So that one day, we might reunite, knowing that the legacy we created together was one that he would be proud of," Libra prayed.

The eulogy finished, Libra turned to the headstone beside him. The decoration had been purchased from a large village nearby. Frederick, despite his own grief, had remained strong as the situation demanded, seeking aid from the nearest village so that they could honor their late friend properly. Neither Chrom nor Cordelia had spoken a single word since the incident. Lucina herself had only barely managed to recount their story. Morgan and Severa had been quiet as well, trying their best to console themselves and their heartbroken mother. So Frederick had stepped in there, as well, and selected the words that adorned the monument, carved neatly into marble grave marker.

* * *

><p><em>Here lies Robin<em>

_Beloved Husband and Father, Dearest Friend, Loyal Shepherd,_

_Though your origins remain unknown, and your past may never be discovered,_

_Wherever your soul is headed, a part of our hearts shall forever follow,_

_Your bravery and dedication will never be forgotten,_

_Requiescat in Pac_

* * *

><p>Libra sighed heavily, and lifted a second piece of parchment from his pocket. This would be even harder than the eulogy, he knew, but it had to be done. He took a deep breath, and then another, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. Finally, he turned and slowly approached Robin's young widow.<p>

"Cordelia," Libra said, kneeling in front of the sitting woman. But Cordelia did not move or react, and continued to tremble, tears flowing continuously. "Cordelia," Libra said again. "Robin… Robin left one more letter, for you." With that, he handled the other note to her. It was still folded, with her name inked upon it, neatly and clearly visible. As far as Libra knew, this letter remained unread.

Cordelia made no move for the letter, but at her side, Severa gently took it from Libra's hand, and with a nod, silently promised that the letter would find its way when it was time.

Around them, the gathering began to disperse quietly. Robin's family stayed until the last of the other Shepherds had departed. Cordelia finally managed to lift her eyes, and gazed upon her husband's grave. She stared at it blankly for several long moments, before she collapsed into sobs once more. Severa motioned for Morgan to help her, and the two girls helped their mother limp back to her tent.

"We're right outside, okay?" Severa promised, holding back her own tears. "We're right here. We won't leave you. I promise," Severa said, as she set the letter Libra had given her beneath her late father's pillow.

Her two daughters waited silently, but Cordelia only nodded slightly, stiffly, and closed her eyes without complaint. With a pained grimace, Severa emerged from the tent, her younger sister trailing behind her silently.

"We… we have to go," Morgan said. Severa turned, shocked. Like their mother, Morgan had been completely silent since the night Chrom's anguished cries awoke them, and they found their father lying dead on the grassy meadow. The first words the girl had managed in days.

"What are you talking about, Morgan?" Severa asked testily.

"The Shepherds," Morgan explained softly. "Remember? We're supposed to find Lady Tiki… and our fleet is moving south."

"Morgan, our father is dead!" Severa cried. "Who gives a damn about Lady Tiki or the fleet!?" Upon seeing the hurt in her younger sister's eyes, Severa was instantly full of regret. "I'm sorry… Morgan, I'm sorry, I didn't… I didn't mean to…" she stammered helplessly, as Morgan sat down, clutching her knees tightly to her chest.

"It hurts," Morgan whispered. "I can't… can't believe he's gone…"

"I'm sorry. Morgan, I'm sorry," Severa said, as she bent down, embracing her younger sister tightly. "I thought we had won this time… that it would all be over."

"It's not over," Morgan continued, her tone quiet and strained. "We have to keep going. We have to carry on… but… I can't," Morgan admitted, tears dropping steadily onto the sleeves of her robe, a robe nearly identical to the one her father once wore.

The sisters stayed silent for several minutes, struggling with their emotions, trying in vain to grasp the situation, to wrestle their feelings back under control, their tears meeting in small puddles on the grass below.

"I… I'll tell Chrom," Severa finally said. "You stay here with Mother, alright, Sis? You stay right here. I'll be right back." Morgan nodded numbly, and Severa staggered to her feet and set off to search for Chrom.

* * *

><p>"Chrom. It's time to go," Severa said firmly, as she approached the leader of the Shepherds. Chrom was sitting on the far edge of camp, where he had watched the sunset with Lucina and Robin a few short days ago, wondering of the future, when the accursed Plegians accosted them. Chrom turned and looked at her blankly. "You're still our leader," Severa reminded harshly.<p>

Chrom turned away, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Look!" Severa exploded. "We can't just roll over dead! We need to find Lady Tiki, and we need to reach our fleet. We need to find Validar and stop him!"

Still, Chrom said nothing.

"Okay fine, be that way. We'll just let my father down," Severa huffed. "Validar gets the Fire Emblem, Grima comes back, and once our world comes to an end, YOU get to explain to Dad why we're all showing up way ahead of schedule!" It was perfectly ridiculous, but Severa was well-accustomed to drowning her sorrows in bluster. It also worked, for Chrom turned and flinched, as if she had simply slapped him instead.

"What would you have me do?" Chrom whispered, pronouncing each word slowly, as if it hurt to talk.

"Umm… hello? It's your job to figure out, remember?" Severa said, annoyed. But then, with a wince, she realized that wasn't quite true. Chrom may have been the leader, but it was almost always Robin directed the Shepherds to their next objective. Severa sighed, as her own tears returned, unbidden.

Chrom, too, flinched as if he'd been struck. "I'm sorry…" he mumbled, barely audible.

The two stared at each other silently for some time, each seeing the other's pain. Then, shaking her head, Severa broke the silence. "Go on with our quest. We sent out our messengers yesterday already, and the fleet will be waiting for us," Severa stated matter-of-factly. "Will you do this, Chrom?" Severa demanded quietly.

Chrom took a deep breath, then nodded. "I will," he said, though without energy.

"Good," Severa said, nodding approvingly. "I'll find Lucina and Frederick."

* * *

><p>Frederick was easy to find. These past few days, stoic knight was always either in his tent, or patrolling the camp. When Severa found him, and passed along Morgan's reminder, Frederick nodded impassively, and set off to begin packing.<p>

Lucina, on the other hand, evidently didn't want to be found. After Walhart's defeat, the Shepherds retreated into the secluded wild, hoping for a little peace and quiet. The tranquil woods offered many hiding places, and it took several minutes for Severa to find her best friend. Even then, Severa nearly walked right past Lucina, who was sitting curled up, with her back against a large boulder, staring into a shallow pond. "There you are, Lucina," Severa said.

Lucina said nothing, and did nothing to acknowledge her friend's presence. She only stared blankly into the clear blue water, as she fought to erase the thoughts, and the pain, from her mind.

"Lucy, we have to get going," Severa urged, as bitter feelings welled up from within, as the unfairness of the entire situation stung her heart. She had just lost her father, and somehow, it fell to her to push her friends back on the road.

Still, Lucina did nothing, and gave no sign to indicate that she had even noticed her best friend standing beside her. Severa waited for several seconds, trembling with grief and anger, before she finally snapped. "Damn it, Lucy, you can't do this to me!" Severa cried furiously. "You knew he had to die! When we saw that he was working for Grima, you _knew_ this could happen! We all did!"

"I killed him," Lucina whispered hoarsely. The first words she had managed to speak after Robin's death, and the only words she had managed since telling the others what happened. "It's… all wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"You didn't kill him. The idiot killed himself and saved you the trouble," Severa reminded harshly.

"But I pushed him over," Lucina whimpered. "I shouldn't have told him the truth. I should've lied… then… maybe, he'd still be alive."

"You think he didn't figure it out himself already?" Severa asked bitterly. "Lucy, don't make this your fault when it isn't."

"I'm… I'm sorry, Sev. I know you hated him, after… after Mount Prism. And then we met him, and he was such a different person… I thought things could turn out okay, after all… I know you loved him… and now…" Lucina trailed off, unable to complete the thought.

"So, that's what you're after then? You want me to blame you? To hate you?" Severa demanded. "Lucy, when we came back, I knew as well as you did that this would happen. I chose to get close to him, to let myself care for him, anyways! Any pain I'm feeling now is as much my fault as yours!" Speaking of the grief made it infinitely worse, and Severa could feel her own conviction unravel as she spoke, as warm tears stained her cheeks once more. "Lucy, please… you can't blame yourself for this," she pleaded.

The words echoed painfully close to Robin's own words, and as the weight of her promise weighed upon her, Lucina collapsed, shaking with sobs of her own. Even as she and Robin had spoken, the thought of confronting her best friend had never occurred to the princess, drowned amidst her fear and trepidation. "I'm sorry, Sev. I'm sorry," Lucina stammered again, as if the words could bring her some relief from the pain.

"You have to help me, Lucy. You aren't supposed to give up," Severa begged. "I can't… keep this up alone… please… I've lost my father already. I can't lose my mother, too. I can't lose Morgan, again."

In that instant, Lucina realized just how selfish, cruel, and unfair she had been to her best friend. Guilt and grief plagued her, and of all people, it was _Robin's daughter_ trying to help her out of her stupor. Severa was the one who needed to be comforted, and friends and family standing by her. And instead, she was the only one looking out for their future.

"You won't," Lucina promised, a hint of determination returning to her voice. "I couldn't save him, Sev. He cared about you too much. You, your mother, and your sister. Maybe my father and I couldn't stop him, but at least we can make his dream come true."

Severa nodded stiffly, trying to regain her composure, and to wrestle her own emotions under control. "Frederick and Chrom are preparing to leave," she said mechanically. "We should be getting ready, too."

* * *

><p>Everything seemed so surreal.<p>

She could still hear Chrom's anguished cries, echoing through the night. She could still remember coming awake instantly, and grabbing her clothing, before realizing that Robin was missing, and rushing out of her tent, panicked, only half-dressed.

She could still see his body lying there, motionless.

But all of it was just a blur. It was all a dream, a place where time had no meaning, yet seemed to drag on forever. A dream in which she went to sleep, and woke up, but could hardly tell the difference. She wasn't even sure now if she was truly awake.

She heard Libra's words, but she could not comprehend them. She saw the headstone, and for a single moment of clarity, she thought it could all be real, and the pain was too much. She saw the body again. She heard Chrom's cries again.

Nothing made sense. Had it been an hour? A day? A month? Would she ever awaken, or was this nightmare destined to last forever?

With a soft moan, Cordelia opened her eyes. Her vision remained blurry, her eyes stung with relentless tears. She was in a tent. Their tent, she realized. But he wasn't there. Perhaps he had just stepped out, perhaps he would be returning in a moment, to hold her tight, to promise everything was going to be alright.

Cordelia slid her hand gently along his bedroll, tracing the contours of his sleeping form. But there was no trace of him left in the bedroll that had not been slept in for days, only his scent, the musty smell of old books and the fruity aroma of his favorite fruits. Her hand drifted aimlessly, until she grasped his pillow, clenching her fingers around it, just to feel something solid in her hand. As she did, she heard the rustling of paper.

Cordelia slowly reached beneath the pillow and pulled forth a piece of parchment. She unfolded it carefully, her hands trembling, fumbling over the unnatural feel of the material, as if she had never handled a simple piece of parchment before. Finally, she could make out the blurry lines on the page. But like everything else, nothing seemed real. The words were impossible to make out. Without a noise, she let the paper fall from her hand, and laid down on her side, staring at it, wondering when she'd be able to escape this nightmare.

After what seemed like days, Cordelia noticed that the world seemed to be coming back into focus. The parchment was clearly visible, the carefully inked words visible even in the dim light. With a herculean effort, Cordelia reclaimed the letter and crawled to a sitting posture.

* * *

><p><em>Cordelia,<em>

_I love you._

_I treasure you and our daughters, and the memories we share, above anything else._

_I know what I have done is unforgivable. I can already imagine your pain and suffering. It cuts deeper than any sword ever could, just thinking of the tears you will shed. I won't ask you to forgive me, not when I cannot even forgive myself._

_You know why we are here. You alone understand why I have remained by Chrom's side. I remember asking you once, what would happen when we grew tired of this life, and I still remember your peaceful smile, when you said we'd simply find a different life together. You know me as well as I know myself. You know that I am tired. If it was up to us, we would've moved on by now. But it's not. Against our wishes, we've been placed in the center of this storm, and we have no choice but to follow it until the end. Because if we walk away, the darkness will come, and our children will know despair._

_I know you have lost far too much already. I hate the gods for what they have done to you, for taking your parents from you, for taking your knight-sisters, and now, for taking me from your side too. I hate myself, for having to leave. I don't want to go. I want to stay with you, to grow old together._

_Meeting Severa and Morgan, our own daughters from the future, has been both a blessing and a curse. Though we have had so little time together, I love them both so dearly. I see a bit of each of us in them, and the wonderful people they've become, despite their own hardships. But they serve as a grim reminder of our purpose here. And they are two more people I will hurt, unforgivably so, in my attempt to set things right._

_I have to go now. I'm sorry. Sorry for leaving you, sorry for breaking my promise to our daughter back in Ylisstol. Sorry for abandoning Severa again, and sorry that Morgan will never exist in this timeline. Sorry that I had no choice but to inflict such pain upon the people I cherish most, simply to protect them._

_Thank you, Cordelia. You were my love and my light. When I was weak, you lent me your strength. When I was unsure, you lent me your courage._

_Please look after our daughters for me. The only salve for my guilt in abandoning them again is that they could ask for no better mother. They deserved a better father, but I'm afraid I can give them nothing more._

_I wish you could leave the Shepherds far behind. They would understand, I imagine. You could find a peaceful place somewhere, some place to build a new life, to let your heart begin to mend. But I don't know if you can walk away. I'm afraid you will have to make that choice yourself._

_One last thing, Cordelia. Find someone who will love you as I have, who can comfort your broken heart. Find someone who will care for you, and be there for you in your time of need, who won't betray you as I have. Forget me if you have to. I face death so that you and our daughters may find peace, but if you cannot savor that peace, then it is all for naught._

_I'm sorry, Cordelia. Sorry that I failed you. Sorry that I brought you only more pain._

_Your loving husband,_

_Robin_

* * *

><p>The world grew blurry again as Cordelia finished the letter. The words floated through her mind, but it was as if they had yet to take root, as if she was only now beginning to comprehend the letters on the page. The letter slipped from her hands, and she found herself falling, until she laid listlessly on her side once more, Robin's last words to her echoing through her mind, in his voice.<p>

As the message finally sunk in, tears poured forth once more, and her body was wracked with soft, quiet sobs. Robin was gone. Cordelia now knew, without a doubt, that nothing could warm her heart again.

"Thank you, Robin," Cordelia whispered. She cast away the dreadful images of the past couple days, seeking better memories. Happy memories. Robin finding her by the river, the day they met, trying to comfort someone he'd known for only a few hours. Robin kissing her, on the eve of Chrom's wedding, when the two of them simultaneously realized their feelings were reciprocated. The many days and nights they spent on the roads of Ylisse, roaming from town to town, enjoying the sights as they did their part in rebuilding the peace. The night Robin proposed to her, as the two of them watched the stars stretch as far as they could see.

"Wait for me, wherever you are now. One day, I'll come find you," Cordelia promised quietly. Her most comforting thoughts fresh in her mind, Cordelia drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

* * *

><p>When Severa returned to her mother's tent, she found Morgan curled up tightly, sleeping, her face still wet with tears. Severa collected a blanket from her own tent and laid it carefully over her younger sister, then sat down beside her, casually stroking her hand through Morgan's hair.<p>

"I missed you so much, Morgan," Severa whispered, although no one could hear her. "You were all I had for so long. And now it's happening all over again."

Meeting with Lucina had been particularly painful. Both girls had seen the devotion Robin showed to Chrom, a devotion surpassed only by that which Robin paid to his own wife and daughters. Severa had been relieved to learn that her father wouldn't have to be killed, after all.

And now he was dead.

"You aren't supposed to give up," Severa whispered, repeating her own words to Lucina from earlier. And it was true. In their timeline, they had rallied around Lucina, not because she was the princess, but because she was determined to keep fighting no matter the odds. She kept them on their course, fighting until the bitter end. And now Lucina, too, seemed broken.

Severa looked at Morgan again, tenderly. Maybe their father couldn't have been saved. But this timeline had been irrefutably changed.

"Don't worry, Morgan," Severa promised quietly, though her sister still slept and could not hear her. "We'll save mother, this time. We'll save you, this time. And once this is all over, we'll find a new life together, our hearts will heal."

* * *

><p>When Cordelia woke, light shone through her tent. She felt a dull ache, a terrible, empty feeling that she knew she would never escape. The last few days were but a blur, and many of her memories were still disjointed and fuzzy. But none of it truly mattered to her.<p>

Cordelia sat up with a groan, her joints feeling stiff. The sluggishness wore off, though, and as she rubbed her eyes blearily, her vision cleared. It was time to face reality, she knew, but the mere thought of it, the prospect of a life without seeing her husband nearly broke her again.

She steadied her breathing. The letter Robin had left still lay there, but she didn't need it – the words were engraved in her mind forever, like the lyrics of her favorite song, lines that could never be forgotten. "I forgive you, Robin," she said quietly, hoping where he was, he could hear her words. She straightened her clothes methodically – she vaguely remembered being led back to the tent by her daughters, and as she had slept fully clothed, her tunic was rather disheveled. In her heart, she was already yearning to sleep once more, to dream of him. Or to go to his side, to an eternity of serenity in a better place. Instead, she force herself to rise, to rejoin the world of the living, where their daughters still needed her.

When Cordelia left her tent, she realized the morning was quite late already, almost midday. To her surprise, most of the Shepherd's tents were gone. In fact, including her own tent, only four tents remained. Two of the supply carts remained, the four oxen tethered near them, and three Pegasi were tethered alongside the oxen, which she immediately recognized as the younger Caeda, her Catria, and Morgan's Catria.

"Cordelia!" Sumia called as she approached. Sumia stumbled for a moment, catching herself only just in time. Then she stepped forward and hugged her best friend gently.

Cordelia accepted and returned the embrace, as her two daughters climbed to their feet and approached too.

"Where is everyone?" Cordelia asked.

"I thought we might need some more time," Severa confessed. "But Morgan said we had to keep going, and she was right."

"Chrom took the rest of the Shepherds to find Lady Tiki," Sumia explained. "But he knew the three of you weren't in any shape to travel. We're going to meet at Ocean's Gate, a large harbor along Valm's southeast coast. But we have plenty of time. From here it's only four days, and it will be at least a week and a half until the other Shepherd's reach Tiki's shrine and march from there to the harbor.

"Thank you," Cordelia said gently, as Sumia released her. Cordelia then stepped forward and embraced her two daughters. "I'm sorry," Cordelia apologized.

Both Morgan and Severa shook their heads as they returned her embrace.

"We're in this together," Morgan promised quietly.

"We'll make it through," Severa insisted. "We'll find our way. All of us. We're not alone anymore."

"He would be so proud of you both," Cordelia said, smiling sadly. At the mere thought of him, tears returned to her eyes.

Only one campfire remained in the camp. They sat down by the fire together, where a small pot of stew was cooking. To Cordelia's surprise, she actually felt hungry. It shouldn't have been surprising, as it was the first time she had eaten in days, but it was gratifying for her to begin to feel normal again, even if life couldn't possibly truly return to the way it was.

They stayed one more day at that campsite at Severa's insistence. They spent the day idly watching the clouds go by, or the blades of grass flicker in the gentle breeze. Sumia forced Cordelia to drink and eat, helping her recover from the malnourishment and dehydration her body suffered over the past few days. They all went to sleep early that night.

By the next morning, though the emotional scars remained, their strength had mostly recovered. They approached the marble headstone once more, paying their respects to the remarkable man who laid buried before them, and each of them offered their own silent prayers and promises to Robin.

To protect his family, in his stead.

To watch over Severa and Morgan, and to be there for them no matter how unforgiving life decided to be.

To stand strong, breaking the tide of despair, and avert the dark future Robin had feared.

To serve the Shepherds in his place, to live up to his name, and to make him proud.

And they packed up their campsite and set off towards Ocean's Gate.


	3. Chapter 1: Divine Light

**Chapter 1: Divine Light**

The Valmese war had truly come to a complete end, as the Shepherds discovered while they made their way unimpeded along the road, heading to Naga's Cradle, a sacred meadow that Naga herself once supposedly called home. Naga's power reputedly flowed freely through the meadow, surpassed only by the power that flowed in Mount Prism, a sacred mountain along the eastern cost of Ylisse, where Naga now resided. As legend would have it, Naga slumbered peacefully in her new home, undisturbed. A fraction of her spirit flowed through her daughter and oracle, Lady Tiki. Within Naga's Cradle, Lady Tiki could channel the power of the divine dragon and reach out to Naga's faithful.

As they marched along, Chrom silently wondered if Naga's power could soothe the dull ache in his heart, the emptiness left by the loss of Robin. The Shepherds marched in near silence, steadily making their way. On the first day, Chrom had called an early end to the day's march, halting the procession just as evening set in, and allowing more time to rest and recover. But he soon found that the Shepherds were as restless and disheartened as he was, and most of the evening was spent in sullen silence.

Ever since, they marched until the light of day faded completely. They ate their meals mechanically, and, more often than not, went straight to sleep afterwards. There was no merrymaking by the campfire or telling of old stories. Some of them clung to their morning training, but even that had been changed. It was no longer the playful, mildly competitive activity it was before. Like everything else, it now felt mechanical and routine.

"It will take time," Lucina reassured her father quietly, knowing what was on his mind.

Chrom managed a smile for his daughter. "Thank you, Lucina."

Silently, Chrom thanked the absent Severa as well. Her urging put them back on the road, and they were all doing their best now to carry on, to pretend as best they could that everything was normal. It still felt awkward, and the emptiness persisted, but at least it was a start. It made Chrom a little sad to think that it was Robin's own daughter who had to step forward and be strong, when in fact, it should have been the Shepherds comforting her, instead.

* * *

><p>"How do you cope so easily?" Lissa asked enviously, as she lay beside Frederick in their tent. "I still feel like my whole world's been turned upside down," she confided sadly.<p>

"In a way, it has," Frederick replied softly. "None of us could have even imagined the predicament Robin was in."

"I still can't believe he's really gone," Lissa admitted. "Sometimes, I still approach the supply caravans expecting to see him pulling out another dusty old history text that no one's bothered to read in years. I can still hear the pieces clattering on the board as he and Virion play their silly little board game, and see him sprawled, fast asleep, at a table covered in maps and plans. It's… it's even worse than when we lost Emm," she said, with a little sniffle.

Frederick had no words of comfort for his wife. He felt the same pangs in his own heart. It really was just like seeing Emmeryn fall all over again. He had been powerless to help as Robin sacrificed his own life for their cause, just as Emmeryn had done. All he could do was hold Lissa tightly, silently reassuring her that he was there.

"Promise me something, Frederick," Lissa pleaded quietly. "Promise me you won't leave me this way."

"Lissa, I swore to defend you with my life," Frederick reminded. "I must stand by my oath."

"Promise me," Lissa insisted. "I love you, Frederick. I want you to stay with me forever. We've lost so much already. I can't lose you, too."

"Very well," Frederick conceded. "I will stay close by your side and guard my own life as carefully as I would yours. Now, get some rest, Lissa."

"Life's never going to be quite the same again, is it?" Lissa mumbled drowsily.

Beside her, Frederick remained wide awake, haunted by his own memories. Of a distant time, where he alone didn't trust Robin. In a way, his doubts were vindicated, if Robin was indeed the one who slew Chrom in Lucina's timeline. And yet, Robin remained the true victim in all this, didn't he?

Even after Frederick came around, and began trusting in their new tactician, he had never once regretted his vigilance. Robin, too, was more than accepting of it, and held no grudge. But now, regret and guilty plagued the loyal knight, for every harsh and mistrusting comment he made.

* * *

><p>Henry let out a deep, melancholy sigh as he casually strolled around the camp.<p>

He wasn't supposed to feel pain. He had made himself a creature of instinct. Physical injury and exertion were but signs to him, indications that not all was right. And for so long, he had kept an emotional distance between him and everyone else. One could only suffer so much, Henry mused, before it was desensitizing. Or so he had thought.

Even when Chrom had allowed him to remain by the Shepherds, even when a faint sense of longing held him here, trading stories with his new friends and slinging spells besides them, Henry was pretty sure it was a fleeting thing. When they received the news of Khan Basilio's death, Henry only shrugged. Wasn't death in battle what the fierce warrior khan would've asked for, anyways? And at the hands of one of the most powerful warriors to walk the earth?

It was only when Robin was gone that Henry realized that he wasn't as detached as he thought. Maybe not to Robin – the two men rarely had an opportunity to speak. In fact, there had been only one conversation between them that Henry could remember, when Robin found him poking at the living, severed arm of one of their risen foes. Now that Henry thought about it, he hadn't really had more than a conversation or two with any of the Shepherds, outside of their gatherings and battles. But still, the pain of their tactician's passing permeated the camp, and to Henry's surprise, he could not help but share in their grief.

Henry hadn't really spoken to anyone since the incident. It seemed most of the Shepherds were now as quiet and distant as he was. Even at dinner time, the Shepherds ate methodically, then went their separate ways, to sleep, or, like him, to pace uneasily around camp.

Henry glanced back at the campfire in the distance. To his surprise, it was still lit, despite the late hour. Normally, Chrom would be the last to leave its side, and extinguish it as he left, but the silhouette of the man sitting by it was too small to be Chrom. Curious, Henry approached it, donning his usual smile and intentionally stepping noisily.

Still, Ricken was too focused on the parchment in his hands to notice, until Henry called out to him. "Good evening, Ricken," the silver-haired mage said cordially, as he sat down across from his younger friend.

"Oh! Hello, Henry," Ricken replied politely. Henry noted that Ricken held what seemed to be a half-written letter.

"What do you have there?" Henry asked curiously, peering at the piece of parchment.

"Nothing important," Ricken said with a shrug. "Just a letter to my parents back home, in case we don't have time to stop by Ylisstol."

"You look like you're stuck," Henry observed.

"Yep. Stuck," Ricken confirmed. "I can't think of the right words to say."

"Well. You could tell them how awesome you've been," Henry suggested in a rather upbeat tone. "Tell them about the mighty Valmese soldiers we've been battling."

Ricken cringed, and his expression grew sour. Henry, noting the pained look, fell silent, though, as always, he retained his smile. "Henry, can I ask you a question?" Ricken began hesitantly. "Do you remember when we talked about the Plegian soldiers we killed?"

"Oh, sure," Henry replied easily.

Ricken sighed uneasily. "When I set out from home, all I wanted to do was become a hero, fighting for our prince. I come from one of Ylisse's old and respected noble families, but lately, we've lost a good deal of our name and fortune. I've never cared much for politics, myself, and neither did my father… in fact, that's probably why we're where we are."

"I guess that makes sense," Henry said. "You'd rather just toss fireballs at bad guys and sort things out that way, right?"

"No! Well, yes, I guess. Sort of," Ricken admitted. "But then you told me about your friends in Plegia. Vasto, that wyvern rider who tried to stop us at Breakneck Pass, and General Mustafa, who Chrom killed in the Midmire. And I knew they weren't just bad guys anymore. They're people, aren't they? Just like us. Just like Robin. We've killed hundreds of people, Henry. Thousands, maybe. And tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands more died fighting around us. How many people out there are suffering the way we are?"

"Well, could we have really done anything differently?" Henry asked. When Ricken remained silent, Henry asked another question. "Can we really do anything about it now?"

"I guess not," Ricken said sadly.

"Then why worry about it?" Henry said with a shrug. "What good does that do anyone?"

"How can you just brush it off like that?" Ricken protested. "If I were cut down in battle tomorrow, would you just shrug and carry on, too?"

"Hmm… no, I think there would be blood spilt. Quite a lot of it," Henry remarked thoughtfully.

"Because that would do me a lot of good," Ricken answered dryly.

"Oh it wouldn't be for your sake," Henry said, his usual smile growing unusually sinister, especially in the light cast by the flickering campfire.

Ricken looked uneasy. "Henry, remember your own words. Revenge doesn't do anyone any good. I don't think it would even help ease the pain… I'm pretty sure even after we find and defeat Validar, we would still feel the loss of Robin."

Henry's smile slipped from his face as he considered that. "Sorry, Ricken. Honestly, I'm not much good with touchy-feely stuff. What would you want me to do, then?"

Ricken mulled it over for some time, until the answer came to him. "Stand by Chrom, defeat Grima," Ricken recited. "Banish despair, bring back the peace, and enjoy it for as long we can. That's what Robin suggested, right? And he's never led us astray before."

Henry's smile returned. "Alright. That's good enough for me."

* * *

><p>"I feel as if I don't belong here anymore," Olivia admitted to Virion, as the two of them sat in the grassy meadow, a short distance away from the camp. Despite her passion for dance, Olivia was still rather shy, especially when practicing new dance routines, so they would often find some secluded place nearby to practice instead.<p>

Beads of sweat dotted Virion's forehead, and slid from his brow as he looked at his wife in surprise. "Why ever would you believe that, my love?" Virion asked, panting slightly. Though he hid his pain well, Olivia knew the loss of Robin was gnawing at Virion from within, and that her husband was in at least as much pain as their captain. His dancing was full of renewed intensity, as if he were trying to drown the pain in exhaustion.

"Virion, I'm a dancer," Olivia reminded sadly. Virion reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Dearest Olivia, you may become whatever your heart leads you to be," Virion answered, without really addressing her sorrow. Because, in a way, Olivia was right. Though, like every Feroxi, she had been trained to fight, there was no Shepherd who deplored violence more. Even though the same footwork and graceful movements that comprised her dancing made her a lethal warrior, Virion saw the pain in her eyes every time her blade cut into one of their enemies and drew blood.

"And if my heart leads me home?" Olivia said, her gaze to the east, to where Ylisstol and their son, Inigo awaited.

"Then no one would protest," Virion insisted. "If you recall, dearest, Prince Chrom implored us to remain home when we were setting off on our voyage. I am quite certain if you chose to return to Ylisstol after our return voyage, our illustrious leader would be quite understanding."

"Am… am I a burden?" Olivia asked uneasily. "Is that why you think Prince Chrom wouldn't mind?"

"Only the burden of friendship and love," Virion promised. "The thought of losing a valued companion pains him more than any wound ever could, my love. As for myself, the thought of your suffering ails me as well."

"You don't think I can take care of myself?" Olivia asked testily.

"Nothing of the sort," Virion replied calmly. "I know how difficult the war is for you, Olivia. I know that, even uninjured, with every battle and every kill, you feel a far deeper sorrow that herbs and magic shall not mend."

Olivia sighed. "Even if I did go home though, the war won't stop, would it? The pain won't go away…"

"And that is why I have not suggested that you return home," Virion said, smiling gently. "You are strong, milady. I lean upon your strength as much as I rely upon Prince Chrom's direction, and together, I am certain we will bring this sordid business to a true conclusion."

Olivia said nothing, and only looked uneasily at the worn silver sword she danced and fought with, imagining it covered in blood once more.

* * *

><p>The Shepherds arrived at Naga's Cradle a day ahead of schedule, as a result of their rather intense march. They had set out three days late, however, but Lady Tiki had warned them that the ritual would take some time. She had not disclosed many details about the ritual, only that they would have plenty of time to march to the sacred meadow.<p>

As they crested they final hill and the meadow came into sight, every Shepherd was suddenly filled with a strange sense of warmth and serenity. For the first time after many sullen evenings and restless sleep, it was like there was a voice in the back of each of their minds, assuring them that they would be alright after all.

"The air is sweet here," Chrom remarked lightly, and for a moment, he allowed the sense of peace to sublimate the hollow feeling in his heart.

"It really is," Lissa answered dreamily. "It makes you want to just flop down and take a huge nap, doesn't it?"

"Tempting," Lucina agreed, smiling for the first time in days.

"You may get your wish," Libra added. "Lady Tiki did estimate that the ritual would not be complete until nightfall."

"Is it safe for us to approach her?" Chrom asked, not wanting to accidentally interrupt such a lengthy process.

"It should be quite safe," Libra reassured. "Let us find her."

Lady Tiki was not hard to find, as she was sitting precisely at the center of the meadow. As they made their way over, Chrom noted the relaxed expressions that came over every one of the Shepherds. Naga's power was proving quite therapeutic to their broken spirits. The power flowed through him, too, and a harmonious melody, inspired by Lady Tiki's prayers, echoed quietly through his mind.

"Lady Tiki?" Lucina asked quietly, as they approached the oracle, who was sitting relaxed, cross-legged with her eyes closed.

"She cannot hear," Libra explained. "She is lost in the throes of her sacred rites."

"What is the ritual for?" Lissa asked curiously.

Libra smiled. "You can feel it, can you not? Naga's divine light is gathering, coalescing here around us. Lady Tiki is preparing to draw the divine dragon's power from the land unto herself."

Chrom looked around and couldn't help but wonder what a shame that would be, for this one pocket of harmony to be lost to their world. Still, he knew Lady Tiki had her reasons. "Well, why don't we all just take it easy for a while?" Chrom suggested. "It's been a long and tiring march."

Following the suggestion, the Shepherds dispersed around the meadow, drinking the cool water of a nearby stream and lying on the soft grass, watching the sun shine gently upon them as the clouds idly crawled across the blue skies.

Chrom himself found a rather comfortable spot to lie down, with his two daughters sitting beside him. He still felt a faint sense of longing in his heart, but Naga's soothing voice was enough to ease the pain somewhat. "Maybe we should have tried to bring Cordelia along after all," Chrom suggested quietly. It had not been easy to leave the woman behind, but it was quite apparent that she wasn't ready to rejoin the world of the living quite yet. Finally, Sumia had offered to stay behind and look after Robin's family. In truth, Chrom wouldn't even be too surprised if they could not reach the port in time. He figured if it came to that, he would simple instruct a ship to remain behind and wait.

Chrom still felt guilty about the funeral, too. They couldn't really bring Robin back to Ylisse, and besides, where was Robin's home, really? It certainly wasn't Plegia. Frederick had insisted that Robin chose the road to be his home, and that a quiet grove near a small Valmese village would be as good as any other place for the late tactician, and of course, Chrom had not found the words to argue, or say anything else.

Chrom found himself thinking ahead to the battles that still awaited him. For the first time since Robin's passing, he had the clarity of mind to truly contemplate their future. Ever since meeting him, the Shepherds had relied so heavily on Robin for direction. In battle, at first, and later on, in almost everything. "Lucina, Cynthia, what do you two know about Morgan?" Chrom asked quietly.

"The Morgan you know wasn't even from our future," Lucina reminded hesitantly.

"But did Robin and Cordelia have another daughter in your timeline?" Chrom asked. "Morgan doesn't remember her past, but she could still be the same person at heart."

"She does pretty much have the same personality," Cynthia said. "She's always been really optimistic. And she did love her father. She was the one who never believed the stories that it was Robin who betrayed you."

"When we fled from the risen, she was determined to help us, as her father helped you," Lucina added.

"How was she? As a tactician, I mean," Chrom questioned. He knew Robin had been impressed with the girl. He doubted anyone could ever truly fill the void Robin left, but perhaps Morgan would be willing to try.

"We thought she was crazy a lot of the time," Cynthia said, smiling at the memory. "But her ideas were usually good. Somehow, almost all her plans worked out for the best in the end."

"She really does take after her father then," Chrom said, now smiling as well, as he remembered Robin accidentally sending himself off to confront Gangrel personally. Robin had told them the full story later, and Sumia and Chrom had both been quite amused. And of course, there was the time Robin sacrificed nearly half of their fleet to set the Valmese fleet and the seas around them ablaze.

"What are you thinking?" Lucina asked, with a hint of nervousness.

"I was thinking that I can't do this alone," Chrom admitted. "Frederick will try to help of course, and you'll be there, Lucina. But I think we will still need a tactician."

"Morgan can do it," Cynthia said, although she, too, sounded uneasy.

"I suppose," Lucina agreed quietly, but she didn't sound too convinced.

Chrom didn't miss the subtle undertones. "Is there something you haven't told me about her?" Chrom asked mildly. Then he chuckled. "There has to be. There's much you still haven't told me, now that I think about it."

"I'm sorry, Father, you know we can only say so much," Lucina said guiltily. "But… there was a reason Morgan wasn't able to come back with us," she admitted. "She tried. She was supposed to… but…" Lucina seemed unable to complete the thought.

Chrom sighed. "Even the best tacticians make mistakes, I suppose," Chrom said thoughtfully, his thoughts resting on Robin once more.

"Milord!" Chrom, Lucina, and Cynthia turned to see Frederick rushing towards them, a grim expression on his face. "Enemies, to the south!"

"To arms!" Chrom cried, as he spun in the direction Frederick indicated. His expression became one of horror. At first he thought it was a cloud drifting in their direction, but as it neared, he could make out the leathery wings and crimson, gold, and silvery steel glinting in the sunlight.

Dozens of Valmese wyvern knights, flying straight towards them, or more specifically, Lady Tiki.

The Shepherds rallied immediately, and Chrom cursed himself when he realized the position they were in. With Cordelia, Morgan, and Sumia gone, their air support was limited to just Cynthia and Cherche, and their respective mounts. "Ricken, Miriel, you two are most comfortable with elemental magic. Ricken, you're with Cynthia, and Miriel, you're with Cherche. Keep your distance!" Chrom ordered. The four of them hastened to obey, and soon Minerva and Caeda ascended to the skies, waiting for the wyverns to close.

Soon, Chrom found another startling and horrifying realization – perhaps their foes were once Valmese, but now they bore the glowing red eyes and ashen violet skin of risen. Even the wyverns seemed discolored, and their draconian, crimson eyes glowed as well. "They must be after Lady Tiki!" Chrom realized aloud. "Everyone else, form a defensive perimeter around the oracle!"

Chrom's guess proved accurate. As Ricken and Miriel worked their wind magic, several of the undead wyverns and their ghastly riders plummeted from the sky, crashing to the meadow below and crumbling away to dust. The others did not turn, did not retaliate, but merely flew past, still making their way towards Lady Tiki. Cynthia and Cherche must have realized it as well, and they turned to follow to keep the skilled mages in range of the undead flock.

When the wyverns closed in, Virion, Tharja, Henry, and Lissa began opening fire upon them, the latter three using their own wind magic while Virion sent a steady stream of silver-tipped arrows skyward. Gaius, too, drew forth a bow, and although he was hardly as skilled with it as Virion, he had been practicing. He carefully kept his aim in the opposite direction of their own fliers so that any missed shots would remain clear of his allies.

By the time the wyverns were close enough to dive, what had once been nearly forty wyverns had been reduced to ten. The creatures weren't nearly as resilient in death, and their reckless flying allowed the Shepherds to destroy most of them, but there were simply too many. As they closed, the Shepherds circled to defend, drawing javelins and throwing axes to keep them at bay. Nowi proved particularly devastating, her icy breath shattering the ghastly wings of several foes.

As the last of the wyverns fell, Chrom scanned the sky for any remaining foes. He groaned as he spotted three smaller clouds approaching.

Valmese Pegasus knights, griffon riders, and wyvern knights. All with glowing red eyes and ashen skin. The feathers on the griffons and Pegasus knights were a dull, gray color, and talons of the fierce and noble griffons were ragged, skin drawn tight. "Steady yourselves!" Chrom cried, as he gestured to the approaching foes.

Again and again, the Shepherds rained magic, arrows, and steel upon the approaching foes. As the second wave neared, a pair of javelins soared down towards them. A timely blast of flame from Tharja incinerated one javelin, but the second one flew past. With a sickening twist in his stomach, Chrom turned to see the javelin sticking out from Lady Tiki's arm.

But Lady Tiki did not react. "Libra!" Chrom called, deciding quickly that Lissa's wind magic was more effective against the aerial foes than Libra's throwing axes. The monk only had two left, anyways. Libra, catching his meaning immediately, bent down to remove the spear and tend to the wound.

A third wave had followed the second closely, and had descended upon them not long after the last of the second wave of fliers fell. This time, Chrom heard one of them roar out in its guttural, bestial voice. "Kill! Voice! Kill!" the creature cried, before Chrom himself lifted a javelin and impaled it with a single precise throw. Another throwing axe whirled past him, but Nowi intercepted it, casting herself in front of the projectile, which bounced harmlessly off her thick Manakete scales.

Their enemies had been reduced to but a handful, and thankfully, it appeared to be the last of them. But even as the Shepherds prepared to destroy the last few of the undead creatures, everyone felt a sudden surge of power, as the divine dragon's strength swirled around them. The risen, too, stopped, held fast by some mysterious force.

Then, the power was gone. The feeling of peace and harmony was gone from the meadow, and where the green-haired oracle of Naga once sat, there was now another Manakete with iridescent green scales, much like Nowi, only slightly larger and with a sleeker, more graceful, mature silhouette.

Lady Tiki let out a roar, and soared up into the sky. Moments later, the last of the risen fell, struck down by Tiki's icy breath, who, with a single lazy spiral, returned to her post and resumed her normal appearance.

"Wow," Lissa gasped. Like most of the Shepherds around her, she wore a blank expression. Of course, the old stories spoke of Lady Tiki being a Manakete, and she was a daughter of the divine dragon. But none of them had expected such power to manifest so suddenly, and in such a gentle soul as Naga's Voice.

"Are you alright, Lady Tiki?" Libra asked urgently. He had tended to the wound quickly, removing the hurled spear and mending it magically before she could lose blood, but he had tried to keep his movements clean, precise, and minimal so as to not disturb her rite.

"Yes, thanks to you, Libra," Tiki said, with a gentle smile. She closed her eyes, and suddenly, every one of the Shepherds felt the same sensation they had before, only more concentrated, reaching into the deepest recesses of their hearts, finding their cruelest wounds, and soothing them.

"You've taken in the power of the divine dragon," Chrom said, awed, as he felt her spiritual touch.

"Some of it," Tiki agreed. "The power that remained here, in this meadow, now rests within me. It's strange. This power had always isolated me. Many were the days I wept alone, cursing the charge placed before me…"

"Lady Tiki…" Lucina said sympathetically, knowing full well the burden of fate and responsibility.

Tiki shook her head. "My power has a purpose now. The world needs it to avoid a ruinous future, and so I shall offer it freely. Allow me to join you," she requested.

"Are you certain?" Libra asked.

"I am. I've had quite enough of living in solitude, thank you," Tiki answered with a serene smile. "Besides, I've always longed to better know this world. Now I can help you save it."

"There's something you must know," Chrom interjected. "The… the Fire Emblem is lost, stolen from us by the Grimleal."

That took Tiki aback. "But… but how? You were all so careful. Especially your tactician and friend, Robin."

"Robin… Robin is dead," Chrom admitted, trying to keep his voice impassive.

Tiki closed her eyes. "I see," she replied quietly. "Now I understand the pain I saw in your hearts," she said quietly. As she spoke, she radiated with Naga's soothing magic once more, trying to ease their suffering.

"Do you know where the Grimleal are?" Tiki asked quietly.

"Back in Plegia, somewhere they call The Table," Lucina replied. "At least, if Validar can be believed."

"The Dragon's Table. A sacred site to the Grimleal," Tharja added, and they turned to her. "All Plegians have heard of it," she explained, upon seeing their questioning looks. "It is a plateau that lies along the southern coasts of Plegia, atop the bitter, windswept cliffs. It is said a great effigy of the fell dragon itself rests upon it, as well a grand Grimleal temple."

Lucina's eyes widened in recognition. "That… that must be the place then," she whispered, horrified.

"The stories of Grima's return claimed he was summoned by his followers to a place his followers hold sacred," Cynthia explained, sharing her sister's alarm.

"Grima? Grima has yet to awaken, I thought," Tiki said, concerned.

"It's a long story," Lucina said with a grimace.

Tiki agreed, nodding gracefully. "Then we must be on our way. It will be a long march and a longer voyage, and there will be plenty of time for your stories."

* * *

><p>"So, that's where we stand," Chrom conclude quietly, as he finished their story. He had waited until the next morning to begin their tale, starting from the Valmese invasion of Ferox over a year ago. Lady Tiki was attentive throughout the story, and asked very few questions. Chrom explained their fears of Walhart claiming the Fire Emblem, and shared everything Lucina had been willing to divulge of the future.<p>

The hardest part was the end of the Valmese war. With great difficulty, Chrom described the encounter with the Plegians, the loss of the Fire Emblem, and Robin's decision.

Tiki shook her head sadly, tears glistening in her own eyes. "You've been so strong, Prince. You've walked such a difficult road. It is a miracle that you can still face the dark road ahead."

"Lady Tiki," Lucina interrupted. "Do… do you know if… if Robin was right?" Lucina asked hesitantly, unsure of which answer she truly wanted to hear. "Did he really… have to leave?"

Tiki bowed her head sadly. "I cannot say, Princess. Only time can tell. Perhaps your brave friend's actions will save us all. Perhaps our victory will be swift and clean, and his sacrifice will prove noble, but unnecessary. Or perhaps it will prove insufficient. I know you seek answers, but I'm afraid no one can answer."

"Is it possible to bring him back?" Cynthia asked, in a small voice. "I mean, Naga's a goddess, right? Could she send him back to us, when this is all over?"

Tiki's lips curved into a small, morose smile. "Naga is no more a goddess than Grima is a god. They are entities that are beyond our plane, but neither of them are omnipotent. I'm sorry, Cynthia, but the dead lie beyond the grasp of the divine dragon. Even Grima, in summoning his risen hoards, taints the souls thoroughly and repairs them with his own cruel powers. The risen are but shadows of their living selves, abominations that are an affront to life itself. If any trace of their original souls remain, they do so in twisted agony."

They all knew the answer already, of course, before Cynthia had asked. But upon hearing the truth, Chrom and Lucina's faces fell.

"Rest easy, my friends," Tiki soothed. "Our quest continues. Keep Robin's purpose and strength alive for him, and his memory will live on. We must press on, and give him a legacy he will be proud of from wherever he may be watching."

Chrom nodded appreciatively. Lady Tiki had proved to be a comforting presence. She was a soothing balm for their grief, even if Naga's light could not wash the pain away. Chrom was no stranger to loss. Even now, he sometimes awoke from dreams of seeing his sister Emmeryn again, alive and well, reaching out and healing her people.

Those dreams had mostly been replaced now by images of Robin, sprawled over his work, sparring with Cordelia at sunrise, studying with his future daughter Morgan. He could see the glint in Robin's eyes when he had devised a new cunning and crazy plan, and the nervousness that Robin carried at the beginning of every battle.

But now, his dreams were punctuated by Robin and Emmeryn, standing side by side, smiling and watching, encouraging him to move on.

"I will not fail," Chrom promised quietly, to those who had gone before him.


	4. Chapter 2: Those Who Fight Further

Chapter 2: Those Who Fight Further

Chrom was pleasantly surprised when he was reunited with his wife earlier than he had expected, a couple miles out of Ocean's Gate. "Chrom!" Sumia cried out, as she came soaring towards them astride her Pegasus. As always, she seemed in such a rush that she almost tripped, but this time, Chrom caught her as she stumbled away from Caeda.

"Everyone's fine," Chrom promised gently, holding her tightly. "What about you?"

Sumia sniffled softly. "Everyone's… better," she replied uncomfortably. As Lucina and Cynthia approached, she released Chrom and hurriedly hugged her daughters as well.

"Has the fleet arrived?" Lucina asked, after returning her mother's embrace.

"Yes. They arrived four days ago," Sumia confirmed. "Oh! Cynthia, I found the materials we'd need for that spear of yours!" Her daughter's eyes lit up at that. Sumia had promised to help Cynthia build a weapon together, back in the future timeline. When they were reunited in this timeline, Sumia offered to keep her future self's promise, but they didn't have the materials on hand as she had hoped. They had tried to find the materials on their way to the Valmese capital, but with the war brewing around them, quality wood was in high demand.

"Really!?" Cynthia asked eagerly.

"Yep!" Sumia said, nodding happily. "We'll have plenty of time on the voyage home. Even the more direct voyage will still take almost three weeks."

"I was afraid you would still be back at that camp," Chrom admitted, once he and his wife were alone, as they continued to march towards the city.

"Cordelia won't be broken so easily," Sumia assured, thought she didn't quite believe it herself. "We set out only two days after you did. We traveled slowly, but we've been resting here for just over a week, now."

"How are Severa and Morgan?" Chrom asked.

"They're doing well," Sumia replied. "They're both still hurting, but Severa's been taking Morgan out shopping almost every day, trying to take both of their minds off of it." Sumia looked uneasy about something.

"What is it?" Chrom asked, noticing her discomfort immediately.

Sumia sighed. "It's Severa. She told me the truth, the other day. When Lucina and the others came back in time, they all came back knowing that Robin might have to… they all knew that Robin could be dangerous."

Chrom cringed. "So, I guess she expected this to happen."

"No," Sumia corrected quickly, shaking her head. "She and Lucina both saw the same thing. They both knew the stories couldn't be true, that Robin would never turn against you. Learning that he could be controlled was a shock to them, too. Neither of them expected things to end this way. Severa tries to stay calm and reasonable, but I'm sure she's a mess inside."

"Well, we will be there for her," Chrom promised. "It's the least we can do. We all owe Robin so much. How are you holding up?"

Sumia sighed again. "I just can't help but feel that even if everything goes well from here on out, everything will still feel… wrong. It's just like when we lost Emmeryn. Maybe even worse…"

Chrom laughed bitterly. "I never thought anything could make me feel worse than when Emm died," he admitted. "Now I know better."

* * *

><p>Ocean's Gate proved to be a small, bustling burg full of excited civilians. Dozens of street vendors dotted the cobblestone roads, much like in Ylisstol, offering a variety of Valmese street foods and shiny trinkets. In addition to the fleet that was to bring the Ylisseans and Feroxi home, the port was filled with clippers of various sizes with anywhere between two to four masts. The light and speedy vessels were particularly favored by merchants.<p>

Chrom watched as several sailors hauled crates full of what looked like traditional Chon'sin textiles aboard one of the clippers. A voice from behind answered his silent questions. "Now that the war is over for them, they're hoping to make the run to Plegia and back before the summer ends."

Chrom turned, vaguely recognizing Cordelia's voice. Her speech had lost its melodious, warm tone, but Chrom was at least relieved to see that the woman no longer carried the haggard appearance of someone who had not slept or eaten properly in days. "Ah. That makes sense, I guess," Chrom replied uncomfortably.

Cordelia's lips curved into a slight smile, and she stepped past the prince, leaning against the wooden rails of the port. It was only then that Chrom noticed she was no longer wearing her riding armor, but a simple light blue blouse and dress. It occurred to Chrom that even in the hallways of Castle Ylisse, when they were between missions, Cordelia was still usually seen wearing full armor.

"Severa's work," Cordelia replied to his unspoken question, when she noticed that he was eyeing her unusual attire.

"Well, it looks good," Chrom complimented feebly, as Cordelia turned her gaze back to the wide ocean ahead of them. Sumia walked by, and upon seeing the tension on Chrom's face, stepped forward and gently clasped his hand in hers encouragingly, though she remained silent. Chrom turned and gave her a quick nod of appreciation.

"Cordelia, I've been thinking," Chrom began. "When we complete our voyage, would you like to return to Castle Ylisse?" he suggested. "Maybe you should spend some time with Severa… the younger one," Chrom explained, when Cordelia didn't immediately answer.

It was then that Chrom noticed her hands were clenched tightly around the wooden rail.

"I… I can't," Cordelia replied quietly.

"Cordelia, you just need some time," Sumia put in, trying to reassure her friend.

"We have a long voyage ahead of us," the red-haired woman reminded softly, her gaze still pointedly fixed upon the waves.

"Please, Cordelia. It's hard for all of us… but it has to be hardest for you," Chrom said.

Cordelia sighed. "It hurts," she admitted. "But I have to carry on. Robin would never forgive me if I didn't. And I don't… I can't go home. Not yet."

"Robin would want to comfort you however possible," Sumia replied insistently. "He loved you, Cordelia. He wouldn't care if you need some time away from the war. Away from us."

"I'm staying," Cordelia said softly, yet firmly.

"All right," Chrom agreed, placing a hand on Sumia's arm to stall her protests. "But if you change your mind, just let me know, alright? Please." Cordelia nodded, without turning around, and Sumia tugged at Chrom's hand. The two of them left, giving Cordelia the privacy she yearned for.

Behind their departing backs, Cordelia's lips trembled, unseen. She knew she had to stay strong for the sake of her daughters, and so she hid her pain as best she could. Though she wanted nothing more than to lie down, to sleep and to dream, she woke every morning, toured the streets with her family, and browsed the wares the street vendor's offered with feigned curiosity. She had never realized how difficult it was to awaken. Or perhaps she had been dreaming for too long. Perhaps she had been living a dream ever since she had met Robin. Because she only barely had the strength to awaken each day.

And she knew she could not accept Chrom's offer. She dreaded the day she would have to return to Ylisstol, to face her child that she had failed so miserably. She had felt out of place ever since Robin had left her. She knew that one day she would have to return to Ylisstol, to face her daughter, and to realize that even the castle no longer felt like home. Could any place in this world ever truly feel like home again? She had only felt so lost once before, when her knight-sisters perished in securing her escape so that she might warn the prince, during the Second Plegian War. Back then, Cordelia had wondered dully how surviving such excruciating pain was even possible. Her reunion with old friends had soothed the pain somewhat, but it was in meeting Robin, and in romantic hopes for the future that she took solace. And now he was gone, and the seemingly unbearable pain had returned tenfold. Seemingly unbearable, because, despite the fury of the gods who must have despised her, she still lived on.

At least their daughters were recovering. Cordelia could sense that Severa, too, was hiding her pain. But Morgan had begun to show signs of her usual, upbeat self and it was rubbing off on her sister. More and more of Severa's laughter was genuine, as the two girls tried various exotic foods and browsed the wide selection of goods for sale in the market. Watching them, she even found herself smiling, as Severa veritably dragged Morgan away from a vendor carrying a collection of books to another merchant selling unusual clothing.

An image of Robin appeared before her, hovering above the water. "I wish you could leave the Shepherds behind. They would understand," Cordelia heard again, in his voice.

"I'll find my peace," Cordelia promised quietly. "When this is all over." In her mind's eye, she saw Robin's piercing, intelligent gaze, and he watched as he smiled at her, sadly and knowingly, his eyes tinged with regret. Deep in her heart, Cordelia wondered if she would ever find peace of mind again.

* * *

><p>"Uncle Chrom! Aunt Sumia!" Morgan cried excitedly, as she spotted Chrom and Sumia walking down the street. Dragging her sister behind her, the red-haired girl cheerfully made her way across the road. "Look at this ribbon Severa chose for me," Morgan said when she was standing before the prince, turning her head, showing them a small ribbon with a flower pin that was wrapped around a small braid.<p>

Chrom couldn't help but smile at the sight of Robin's younger daughter. There was still a hint of pain in her dark eyes, so similar to her father's, but her smile and excitement was genuine. "It's very pretty," he said kindly.

"You have great taste, Severa," Sumia complimented, and Severa preened visibly.

"Thank you," Chrom said, meeting Severa's gaze. Severa smiled, understanding the unspoken sentiment immediately. "We're going to set off this evening by the way, so we'll be boarding pretty soon. Will you two be ready?"

"Probably," Severa said, with one last glance around at the market. "But there's a few things I want to check out, one last time."

"Come on, Severa!" Morgan protested, though she was laughing. "We've already seen the entire market like four times! Though I would like to pick up some new books to read. Aunt Sumia said it would be kind of a long voyage…"

"Almost three weeks," Chrom confirmed.

"Well, what're we waiting for, then?" Severa said with a grin, as she turned and marched back towards the street market, Morgan tailing close behind.

"Do I have any right to ask her?" Chrom wondered aloud, as he and Sumia watched the two of them return to their shopping, a wistful look on his face.

"Ask who? What?" Sumia asked, turning to him, confused.

"The Shepherds need a tactician still," Chrom reminded quietly. "Planning and strategic thinking was never my strong suit, nor Frederick's. But… I wish Morgan and Severa could just be free of this, too. They've lost so much already, is it fair of me to drag them into another war?"

Sumia smiled. "Do you think either of them will be any more willing to go home than Cordelia? Besides, Morgan already asked me once if I thought she could help take over for her father."

Chrom felt a twinge of guilt upon hearing that remark, but at least put his questions to rest. "Sumia, we have to protect her," Chrom said quietly. Sumia looked surprised.

"What do you mean?" Sumia asked in a perplexed tone.

"I thought Lucina and Cynthia mentioned it to you… this Morgan isn't the same Morgan from their timeline. They wouldn't tell me the details, but something must have happened to the Morgan they knew. To the sister that Severa grew up with," Chrom replied, and Sumia's eyes widened.

"We do need her help, but… we can't let anything happen to her," Chrom stated, his tone growing fierce with determination. "We won't lose her. We won't lose anyone else." This war had been plagued with loss, and Chrom had had enough of it.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, the Shepherds boarded two of the smaller schooners. The Ylissean and Feroxi armies had marched to the port with Flavia, ahead of any of the Shepherds, and had already boarded the other vessels.<p>

To Chrom's surprise, the Valmese dynasts had left them a surprising parting gift. In the aftermath of the Conqueror's war, there were more than enough weapons lying around. Lon'qu and Anna both used curved blades similar to those oft-carried by warriors of the southern provinces. Both of them had new replacements for their previously worn weapons, and a few spare blades had been added to the Shepherd's armory. They had also received an assortment of fine steel and silver lances, axes, and swords that were retrieved from the Valmese armory, likely more than enough to face the trials ahead. There was even a new collection of anima tomes and staves added to their collection.

"This one is really cool," Anna explained cheerfully, as she gestured to one of the staves. "It doesn't heal wounds, but instead, it lets you move someone to your side!"

"Is it rift magic?" Chrom asked nervously, not entirely sure he wanted to be tampering with Grimleal weaponry.

"Not quite," Anna corrected. "It doesn't actually open a path between two places. It more of… carries them along, I guess. And they have to be willing, so it won't work on our enemies."

"That could be really useful. It means if anyone is in danger we can pull them out of a fight instantly," Morgan commented, eyeing it curiously. As Sumia had promised, Morgan had been quite receptive to the idea of becoming the new tactician. Her expression caught somewhere between grief and joy, she was eager to do anything she could for her late father, and Chrom had decided to start by acquainting the girl with their new weaponry.

"Yep!" Anna agreed enthusiastically. "And anyone who can use healing staves should be able to use them. Heck, I think I could probably use one somewhat."

Morgan's eyes lit up. "Could Aunt Sumia use one, then? That means our Pegasus could really be carrying three or more people with them!"

"Huh. That's an interesting idea," Chrom remarked.

"Let's not get too carried away," Anna said with a grin. "It'll work, but we only have a handful of them and like all staves, they won't last forever."

"Right! We must always properly weigh the value our resources," Morgan recited, as if reading it from one of her texts.

Chrom followed along as Anna waded further through the cargo hull, showing Morgan some of the other unique weaponry they now had – swords designed to battle dragons, axes with heavily serrated edges, and longbows with a longer effective range. Morgan's eyes lit up again when Anna showed them an extremely rare thunder tome that could allow the caster to strike from a long distance. Chrom couldn't help but laugh, it was like watching a child wandering through a tinkerer's house full of toys.

* * *

><p>As he watched the gulls fly by, silhouetted by the setting sun behind them, Gaius groaned loudly. All of the Shepherds had gotten accustomed to the sensations of sailing long ago, but still, he leaned against the rail of the schooner, staring sadly at the sunset as the land behind them grew smaller and smaller in the distance.<p>

"Well, aren't you chipper today?" a girl commented smarmily. Gaius turned to see Severa standing behind him, looking rather amused. "I thought you'd be glad to heading home," she said casually, as she laid down upon one of the benches on the deck.

"Oh I am," Gaius assured. "But I hate sailing. I'd rather have both feet on the ground, thank you very much."

"Maybe you should tell Chrom that you'd rather walk home," Severa suggested dryly. "But then again, Sumia told us about how you got stuck up a cliff trying to get to a beehive once. So that might not be completely safe either."

Gaius laughed. "Oh, of course Stumbles would tell that story."

"Stumbles?" Severa asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just a nickname," Gaius replied casually. "Something I can help you with?"

Severa smiled deviously. "Hmm… probably not. Well, unless you have any spare sweets on you."

Gaius cringed. "You kidding me?" He laughed. "Why do you think I hate sailing so much? Last voyage we were out of honey by the end of the first week."

"Yea, I figured as much," Severa remarked, rolling her eyes. The girl smoothly rose to a sitting position, and pulled a small pouch from her pocket. "Catch!"

With the reflexes of a veteran thief, Gaius's hand snapped up and caught the small leather pouch Severa tossed toward him before it could fly over the rail. "What's this?" he asked.

Severa grinned. "Sumia warned us you'd turn grouchy if you didn't get enough sugar. You can thank Morgan later. It was her idea." With that, Severa turned and casually strolled away, towards the front of the deck.

Curious, Gaius undid the drawstring on the pouch. His eyes widened as he pulled forth a handful of some sort of Valmese fruit, dried and candied. Maybe this voyage wouldn't be so long after all.

* * *

><p>"That was nice of you," Lucina commented, as Severa joined her at the forecastle deck.<p>

"It was Morgan's idea," Severa said again, defensively, rolling her eyes.

Lucina smiled knowingly. "Sev, Morgan's always lost in her books. She wouldn't even have noticed someone selling candies."

Severa, blushing slightly, shrugged. "Dried fruit, actually. And I just didn't want to see that grouch spoiling everyone else's mood, too."

Lucina chuckled at her friend's endless surliness. "By the way, Sev… thank you."

"For?" Severa huffed, as she leaned over the rail.

"For being there when I needed you," Lucina added cryptically. "You really haven't changed one bit. That comes as a relief."

* * *

><p>She sped over the surf as it broke against the hull of the schooner, the ocean spray cool against her scales. As she rounded past the front of the ship, she slowed and swerved, barely cutting past it, stretching her wings as she had not done for many decades. Manaketes didn't fly particularly quickly, and couldn't fly at all without drawing upon their dragon stones, but even after three millennia, Tiki still found the rush exhilarating.<p>

In a way, it was a waste of her dragon stone, as the power contained was finite. But she rationalized it easily, knowing that she would likely see battle before long, and would need to be used to flexing those muscles once more. Besides, Chrom had recovered a pair of dragon stones from Castle Valm's treasury. One of them replaced Nowi's, the other Manakete who accompanied the Shepherds.

Nowi had been rather excited to meet another Manakete. Tiki, too, had been delighted to meet another descendent of the dragons. Nowi's excitable demeanor and childish playfulness reminded her of herself, thousands of years before. Though Nowi could not remember much of her own family, she did resemble Tiki, both in human and dragon form. Tiki was fairly certain that Nowi, too, was a descendant of the divine dragon tribe. Still, it was pointless to speculate, Tiki supposed.

There was one other reason for Tiki's nighttime escapade. The ladder up to the crow's nest was long and the climb looked rather unpleasant; flying up to it would be quite a bit easier. Thankfully, no one had remained on the deck when she leapt off the boat, so she ascended without gathering the attention of any spectators. She drifted upwards in a lazy spiral, coming to a rest hanging over the crow's nest.

When they had met briefly in the Mila Shrine, Tiki had noticed a strange resemblance between the Shepherd's tactician and her old friend, Marth. The spark of familiarity came not from his appearance, for physically, the two men were nothing alike. But there was an air of wisdom and kindness about Robin. He was gentle and calm, but full of conviction, even if he himself could not see it. Just like Marth.

Tiki's Mar-Mar was gone now, taken by the irreversible winds of time. She had loved him dearly, and now he was lost to her forever. Even now, she could still hear Marth's words echoing hollowing in the void he had left in her heart.

As Tiki's gaze rested upon the red-haired woman who sat in the crow's nest, her back to the wooden wall as she stared blankly ahead, she could well-imagine how Cordelia felt. Tiki wasn't surprised when Cordelia didn't even notice the soft flapping noise, although she did elicit a startled gasp from the woman when she carefully descended into the nest, reverting to her human form as she touched down.

"L-Lady Tiki!" Cordelia said, when she had recovered her breath. Then she let out a small gasp, for as she looked into Tiki's lustrous green eyes, Cordelia saw a reflection of her own inner turmoil. Somehow, the grieving woman knew, without a doubt, that if anyone could truly understand how she felt, it was the ancient Manakete standing before her now.

"You can just call me Tiki," the Manakete answered, smiling gently.

Cordelia nodded nervously, but said nothing. Tiki, too, had no words, for she knew quite well the feelings the two women had in common could not be adequately described by words. Instead, she simply stepped forward and gently embraced Cordelia, allowing some of Naga's soothing light to radiate as she did so.

"He'll always be with you. Stay strong," Tiki whispered. Then she stepped away gracefully, and disappeared over the edge of the crow's nest.

As it had with the other Shepherds, the divine dragon's blessing had touched her heart, and when Cordelia fell back into a sitting position, some of the tension had left. As tears formed in her eyes, she could feel Robin, sitting beside her with his arm around her shoulders.

As she dozed off, lying beneath the stars, the words echoed in her mind, but this time, they were spoken in his voice.

"Stay strong."

* * *

><p>Chrom still wasn't sure if the gods loved him or hated him. Perhaps they were a whimsical sort. It was practically a joke, that after all the challenges he had faced, a strong, eastbound breeze followed them most of the way back to Plegia.<p>

The voyage was rather uneventful. Unlike the first, none of them were truly sure what to expect. With Morgan and Tharja's help, they had mapped a few routes through Plegia towards where the Dragon's Table was rumored to be. Tharja was never one of the Grimleal, and although Henry had studied some of their arts, he wasn't a devout believer either, so neither of them could be entirely sure of their destination. After a couple days, they prepared a handful of maps and charts, and selected three different landing sites as well, just in case they encountered hostility at the first port they arrived in.

That was another obstacle that would be harder to anticipate. No one was quite certain of King Validar's plans, except for the objective of reviving the fell dragon, so neither Chrom nor Morgan could be sure where it would be safe to land, and whether they could march openly, or if they would have to try to avoid Plegians all the way south.

The good weather seemed to be fading as they drew closer to the Plegian coast, and the overcast skies and dreary fog seemed an ominous omen. Finally, their first destination, one of Plegia's harbor towns known as Black Stream was visible through the thick fog, about three hundred feet out. The fog was too thick to make out the distinct features, but the noise should have carried. Instead, there was only silence from the port, and the only noise to be heard was that of the gulls and the waves.

A pair of scouts were dispatched to scout out the harbor and ensure it would provide a safe landing. An hour later, both scouts returned, bearing the same surprising report – the town was empty.

"How can it be empty?" Chrom asked, flabbergasted. "This is the second largest port of the entire continent!"

"I thought over five thousand people lived in this town," Morgan said, fishing out her notes and looking thoroughly perplexed.

"There are many ships," one of the scouts confirmed. "But there's no one on the streets or in the harbor. We flew through the town, and as far as we could tell there are practically no signs of life."

"There wasn't even really any noise," the other scout added. "Some of the signs clattered in the wind, but we're right by the ocean. It's practically a ghost town."

"Are we sure we're in the right place?" Chrom suggested. "Perhaps we're off course…"

"Unlikely, milord," Frederick answered. "The harbor is intact, after all, and it would be hard to mistaken it for another location, given its size."

"This is Black Stream," the first scout agreed with a nod. "The signs near the docks said as much."

"I don't like this," Chrom muttered. "Something is definitely up. We're going to have to do a more thorough search before we can land our ships safely."

"We should send our Pegasus knights," Morgan suggested. "That way we can get out quickly if we have to, and get around easily, and with eight of us there we can take care of ourselves if we do run into any trouble."

"If there's an ambush waiting somewhere, our Pegasi knights would be vulnerable if we begin to descend," Frederick warned.

"Right. We'll just have to be careful where we land, then," Morgan said.

There were more than enough volunteers, and finally, Lucina, Chrom, Severa, and Gaius accompanied the four riders. It was exactly as the initial scouts described – the entire city appeared to be abandoned. For about fifteen minutes, the four riders circled silently, looking for any signs of life.

"Wait! Blue! There's light over there!" Gaius pointed out, from behind Morgan, his keen eyes spotting a flicker in the window of a large tavern.

Morgan peered around the area carefully. "We should be safe landing on top of the tavern," Morgan noted. Following her lead, the four Pegasi touched down on the roof. "We should stay here with the Pegasi, and let Gaius scout on ahead," Morgan suggested. "That way if there's any trouble we can get out of here quickly."

Gaius obediently lowered a rope over the roof down onto the balcony and slipped inside. To his surprise, there was no tavern keeper or barmaids present, only a table of merchants playing a card game of sorts. He spied on them for some time, before deciding they were simple merchants out of Valm, who were as confused as they were to find an empty port waiting for them.

* * *

><p>"Just a few merchants," Gaius explained as he reached the top of the rope. "They came from Valm, and touched down a week ago. The port's been pretty much empty except for them and apparently a few other Valmese merchants. No one knows where the Plegians went. I don't know if we even need to bother them."<p>

"Well, in that case we can probably bring the ships straight in," Chrom decided.

"It's pretty mysterious though… how can a whole city of people just disappear?" Morgan asked.

"Well, there's no bodies or damaged buildings or anything else to indicate there's been any fighting," Gaius observed. "It looks like they just all packed up and left, to be honest. It's pretty bizarre."

"That's pretty disquieting," Sumia agreed.

Disturbing as it was, now that they knew it was safe, they returned to the ships and gave the orders to land the fleet. The commotion of the Feroxi and Ylissean soldiers disembarking soon drew the attention of the merchants, as well as a handful of Plegians that neither the Shepherds nor the merchants had come across. Still, that made less than three score of onlookers, in a city that hosted five thousand.

"You… you are Prince Chrom of Ylisse!" one elderly man cried, as he approached the Shepherds.

"I am. Do you know what has happened here? Where are all your people?" Chrom asked curiously.

"The Grimleal left for some place they call the Dragon's Table," the old man replied. Chrom shuddered involuntarily. "Their priests demanded it."

"Where'd everyone else go?" Morgan asked, surprised.

"This is everyone else," a middle-aged woman answered. "The Grimleal faith has grown stronger ever since the end of the Second Plegian War. Our king insists that Grima isn't really the monster the followers of Naga would make him out to be. I think it's a load of Pegasus dung myself, but who can say for sure? Still, the Grimleal have done alright by us, and never really asked anything of us until now."

"I'm getting a pretty bad feeling about this," Severa commented.

"Validar is up to something," Chrom agreed. "We need to get to this Dragon's Table, and quickly."

* * *

><p>The Shepherd's set off as soon as the rest of their supplies landed. Morgan quickly chose two of the routes they had planned – one of them would get the Shepherd's to their destination quickest, while the other was a wider path with more even terrain, suitable for Flavia to lead the remainder of their armies.<p>

From the map, Morgan estimated it to be a four day march for the Shepherds, and five, possibly six, for the rest of their armies. After the first day it appeared her estimate was fairly accurate. They had also passed three small villages, and like Black Stream, they were mostly deserted. A handful of villagers told the same story – their friends and neighbors who had accepted the faith their king offered them had all mysteriously decided to leave for the Dragon's Table.

The Pegasus knights took turns scouting ahead and around, but each time they returned with the same reports – Plegia was eerily quiet, and the villages they found were all lacking more than half of their population. Finally, late into the second day, Cynthia returned ahead of schedule.

"Father! Morgan! There's a village under attack!" Cynthia cried frantically as she came into sight. "It looks like the Grimleal are trying to drag everyone off!"

"Damn! Shepherds, let's go!" Chrom ordered quickly.

The Shepherds advanced quickly, the cavalry in the lead, with most of their fliers overhead. Unfettered by the uneven terrain, Morgan, with Severa riding behind her, was the first to reach the village, and immediately spotted the commotion Cynthia spoke of. Dozens of men wearing black, hooded Grimleal robes and carrying crude iron or bronze weapons were dragging the villagers from their homes. Those who had already been captured were bound tightly with thick ropes. Some of them were gagged, as well.

"Cynthia!" Morgan called out, as Cynthia, riding alone, caught up. "They've got prisoners down on the south side – Severa and I will go try and help them. Tell the others to go straight for the village! The Grimleal are scattered and don't look to be well-armed, but if we don't hurry, they might start hurting the villagers!" As Cynthia acknowledged the orders and spun around, Morgan quickly coaxed Catria to turn and start gliding towards the captured villagers.

"We should be able to handle them, right?" Morgan asked, suddenly less sure of her plan than she had been moments ago. She thought there were five Grimleal guarding the villagers, but three more had just joined them.

"There's what, eight of them?" Severa asked, distastefully. "They don't even look like warriors. I could probably take them myself."

"Alright, then," Morgan said, appreciating her sister's confidence. The Grimleal were making a tremendous amount of noise as they tried to round up the remaining villagers, so the guards did not even hear the Pegasus approach. Finally, one of them spotted the approaching foe, but it was far too late. A precisely placed bolt of lightning sent one Grimleal tumbling to the ground. Catria dipped, allowing Severa to leap down safely, as a second spell cleared away the Grimleal closest to the landing site. Two of the Grimleal drew their swords, but as Severa expected, these appeared to be but common farmers. They wielded the swords clumsily as they rushed Severa, and moments later, both of them fell back, one without his weapon hand, the other with a gaping wound in his chest. Morgan, meanwhile, had drawn her own weapon and dived towards one of the foes. She swerved at the last moment as the Grimleal swung his axe, his attack blow way off mark, and Eternity tore a gash in the man's side, dropping him to the ground, as well.

By then, the other Shepherds had arrived, and the battle was on in full throughout the streets. Morgan blasted another of the guards away, as Severa, with a few quick twirls of Passion, left the last two fatally wounded. She then ran off towards the village, hoping to aid the other Shepherds, as Morgan ascended higher into the sky to keep an eye on the roads leading to the gate where the captured villagers had been assembled. She was tempted to try to release them now, but with the battle raging on it seemed less than prudent.

Sure enough, several Grimleal, upon realizing they were under attack, fled for the gate. Morgan dove to intercept them, Catria blocking the road. The Grimleal drew their shoddy axes and swords, but Morgan's magic thundered into them again and again, halting their advance. After a lengthy barrage, all seven of the fleeing Grimleal lay dead along the road.

Suddenly, a scream turned Morgan around. Another group of Grimleal had found another path, and four more of the cultists had caught up to the captured villagers, axes in hand. Morgan immediately urged Catria forward, but she was too far. She watched helplessly as one of the Grimleal raised his axe and charged a young village maiden, probably no older than Morgan herself was.

A young man with messy, short brown hair darted forward, intercepting the Grimleal with a precise slash of his own fine steel sword. The brute fell back, clutching his bleeding belly. "Halt, fiends!" the swordsman cried dramatically, pointing his sword at the remaining three Grimleal. Though he wore a fine, regal, yellow tunic and carried his sword comfortably, the pose he struck looked simply ridiculous.

The Grimleal seemed startled. "The devil are you?" One of them asked incredulously.

"One chosen by forces beyond mortal comprehension! See how my sword hand twitches!" It hungers… for justice!" the young man cried. The three Grimleal looked him blankly. Then, a flurry of lightning bolts took them from their feet as Morgan returned.

"Owain needs no aid!" the man huffed, as he turned to face Morgan. When he saw her, he blanched visibly. "M-Morgan!?"

"Whoa!" Morgan cried, as the strange newcomer pointed his sword at her. She leveled her own tome at him and urged Catria to back away uneasily. "Wait a moment. How do you know my name? Have we met?" Morgan asked.

"Huh!? It's me, Owain! Wait a minute. How are you even here!?" the swordsman demanded.

"Umm… I flew here? On my Pegasus?" Morgan asked, confused.

Owain looked at her blankly. "But… I saw you… you're supposed to be…" he stammered incoherently.

"Okay… I'm afraid I'm still not following," Morgan admitted.

"Owain!?" Morgan and Owain both turned to see Severa, gaping at them in astonishment.

"Severa!?" Owain gasped, when he saw her. "At last, my dear friend, the fates have seen fit to reunite our kindred spirits! The gods are kind indeed to allow us to join forces once more, my fellow scion of the great hero!"

Morgan looked at Severa blankly, as her older sister groaned. "Gods, it really is you. And can you please just talk like a normal human being for once?" Severa said.

"Umm… Severa, who is he?" Morgan asked curiously.

"You truly hold no recollections of Owain Dark, the lone wolf who howls for justice!? No memory of the eagle who cries for love!?" Owain demanded incredulously.

"Okay, this is turning creepy now," Severa observed. "Morgan, this is Owain. He's a friend who came back in time with us. Owain, this Morgan is from another timeline. She lost her memories, so she has no idea who you are… lucky for her. Now can we please get back to killing these Grimleal?"

"Oh! Right!" Morgan said, suddenly remembering they were still in the middle of a battle. She offered a hand to her sister, who climbed aboard Catria with her. But by the time they lifted off once more, it appeared the battle was already over. The victorious Shepherds had thoroughly routed the Grimleal, and were now simply combing the city for any more of the deranged cultists.


	5. Chapter 3: The Dragon's Table

**Chapter 3: The Dragon's Table**

With the fighting over, Morgan and Severa returned to the gate where the villagers were being held. Owain opened his mouth to speak, but after a threatening glare from Severa, he wisely remained silent, and instead simply helped them cut loose the villagers' bindings.

"I can't thank you enough, girls," one elderly woman said.

"I've known that King Validar was trouble ever since he announced he was Grimleal," her husband fumed. "And now look! People all over the kingdom going on some crazy pilgrimage, and trying to drag us along with them!"

Severa and Morgan exchanged alarmed looks. "Why would the Grimleal want to drag non-believers with them on their pilgrimage?" Morgan asked, fearing the answer.

"I bet they wanted sacrifices!" a young boy squeaked in a high pitched voice. "Me mum always warned me that the Grimleal be using people in their dark magic."

Another of the villagers, dressed as a priest of Naga, protested. "They are but legends, I thought, or perhaps the crimes of a distant past. The Grimleal have been peaceful of late, and King Validar has done much to help us rebuild our homes after the war! Would they truly turn against us now, with no apparent cause?"

Deciding they had heard enough of the idle speculation, Severa and Morgan backed away from the villagers so they could continue speaking in private. To Severa's consternation, Owain followed closely, his own face one of deep contemplation. Morgan had apparently lost interest in their new friend already. "Severa, the little boy could be right," Morgan said worriedly. "We still don't know what it takes to bring back Grima. Maybe they_ are_ looking for human sacrifices."

"It's possible," Severa agreed. "Or maybe they just want all of Plegia to see the fell dragon return. Maybe they're trying to find themselves more followers."

"Morgan! Severa!" The two girls turned to find Lissa rushing towards them. "Are either of you hurt?" Lissa demanded, readying her staff. But before either of them could offer any words of assurance, Owain gasped in surprise.

"MOM!?" Owain sputtered.

"Huh? What?" Lissa asked, turning to the newcomer.

"It is you!" Owain said loudly, his eyes widening. "Blessed Mother! I have crossed oceans of time in hopes of standing united with my intrepid and noble ancestors against the avatar of despair! Kindly gaze upon the signet ring upon my finger! Behold, a perfect match to yours! Unique in all the world, yet here lie two. Proof positive…"

Severa interrupted his rhetoric with a loud cough, and Owain shrank away from her fierce glare, sheepishly falling silent. Lissa and Morgan both stared at him, not entirely sure what to make of this eccentric young man.

"Umm… did you say you're my son?" Lissa asked, trying to parse through his rambling.

"Err… yes," Owain said hesitantly, still watching Severa nervously, as if he was worried she would skewer him then and there. "I'm Owain. I… umm… came back from the future to see you."

"Aw! That's a cute name!" Lissa said excitedly. Then, a mark on the back of Owain's right hand caught her attention. "Holy cow! Your hand!" Lissa cried.

"Huh?" Owain looked down at his own hand. "Oh, right! Sorry. Guess I should've said something. It's my brand, see?" He lifted his hand and turned it so the other three could see the mark of the exalt. "The one carried by House Ylisse," Owain added unnecessarily. "So, no more need to worry, eh?"

"Then you knew?" Lissa said, her expression one of relief.

"Yea, you told me your brand never surfaced. You said it always weighed on you. You should have seen how happy you were the day mine appeared! You were sobbing and laughing for an hour without pause!" Owain reminisced.

"I was kind of hoping to grow out of the crying thing," Lissa said with a small, sheepish smile. "But… thank you, Owain. I'm glad to see you."

"You're welcome!" Owain answered happily. Then his face adopted a rather serious and dramatic look. "And as scions of the hero, it falls on us to ensure my dark future doesn't come true! Come, Mother! We shall fight together! Uh-oh… Argh… Too much… passion! Sword hand… getting... hungry…again!" Owain said, clutching the brand dramatically. Lissa looked alarmed.

"That's enough!" Severa shouted, and Owain immediately straightened and ceased his painful moans.

* * *

><p>When Morgan, Severa, Owain, and Lissa returned to where the Shepherds had grouped, they found a pair of the cultists bound to a fence post. To their surprise, Chrom had Falchion drawn and was brandishing it menacingly.<p>

"Why were you trying to take these people to the table?" Chrom demanded fiercely, staring unrelentingly at one of the two men. When the man did not answer, Chrom jabbed the blade forward lightly, barely pricking the man's skin, drawing a bead of blood.

The cultist merely smiled. "Master Grima's roars shall sound once more," he declared proudly.

"His cries of triumph shall usher in a new era of prosperity," his bound compatriot said dreamily. "And his mighty howls shall rain cruel ruin upon the cursed followers of the divine dragon who would destroy our lives to appease their false deity."

"Grima is going to destroy our world!" Lucina cried angrily. The two men turned to her, smiling infuriating.

"It's no use," Tiki interjected quietly. "Chrom, these men have given their hearts and souls to Grima. They have surrendered to the pain and despair in their own hearts."

Chrom turned, frowning, but upon hearing Tiki address Chrom by name, Owain gasped. "Uncle Chrom!?"

The other Shepherds turned, surprised. "Owain!" Cynthia cried out happily, and she leapt forward to embrace her cousin. Lucina, too, smiled upon seeing another of their friends from the future.

"Father, this is Owain, Lissa's son," Lucina explained to a bewildered Chrom.

Not wanting them to get sidetracked yet again, Severa interrupted the reunion quickly. "So, what do we do with these two?" Severa asked, pointing at the two bound Grimleal with her lance.

"Last chance to speak," Chrom warned dangerously, as he turned back to the prisoners. "Or I leave your fate in the hands of the villagers." Many of the Plegian villagers still stood nearby, watching the two Grimleal angrily.

The Grimleal looked completely unperturbed. "We have nothing to say to servants of that wretched Naga," one of them said, still smiling cruelly. "Fare ill, Prince Chrom of Ylisse."

A blacksmith, whose wife had been killed in the raid, stepped forth holding a noose. With a grimace, Chrom nodded at him. "They're all yours, then," Chrom said. "Shepherds, we march for the Dragon's Table."

As the Shepherds left the town, the two Grimleal were ushered onto makeshift gallows. Even the prospect of death bothered them not, and they watched the departing Shepherds with a mixture of hate and triumph in their eyes.

* * *

><p>To Severa's dismay, Morgan quickly found that she liked their new comrade. His dramatic antics were quite entertaining. "That was amazing! You would make quite a playwright!" Morgan congratulated happily, after a long spiel about how they were destined to be unstoppable partners bound by the red string of fate.<p>

Chrom was less amused by Owain's eccentric ramblings, mostly because his thoughts still remained on their destination. But Lucina always had a warm smile for her cousin, and Cynthia was all too happy to play along. Frederick seemed at a complete loss upon meeting his future son, but seemed happy to meet him anyways.

As they continued their march, an Ylissean Pegasus rider caught up, with a report from Flavia.

"It appears all the Grimleal in Plegia are headed to the Dragon's Table," the scout said. "We've passed many near empty villages, and those who remained behind all told the same tales. We also found a few villages that appear to have been sacked. Only a few bodies remained behind; the rest of the villagers were taken alive. We also came across two villages as they were being attacked by the Grimleal, seeking to capture and drag their people to this Dragon's Table as well."

"We've encountered the same," Chrom confirmed. "Are the Feroxi and Ylissean armies still on track?"

"Yes sir," the scout affirmed. "In fact, the road has been entirely clear. Khan Flavia has taken a small team ahead and will arrive at the Dragon's Table tomorrow afternoon, and the rest of us should be there by the following morning."

"So our reinforcements should arrive only a few hours after we do," Morgan estimated. Based upon the maps they were expecting to arrive early tomorrow morning.

"We can't wait for them," Chrom insisted. "It's been too long already – we have to figure out what King Validar is up to."

"Right," Morgan agreed. She turned to the scout. "Can you find Khan Flavia and tell her that we can't wait? She should come find us as soon as she arrives – we will probably be confronting King Validar already."

"Yes ma'am," the scout said with a nod, and with a quick salute, she departed, and the Shepherds resumed their march.

"We will need to move quickly if we plan to strike first," Frederick warned. "There will likely be thousands, maybe tens of thousands of Grimleal at the Dragon's Table. Even if most of them aren't soldiers, they can still easily overwhelm us if we allow ourselves to be surrounded."

"We won't let that happen," Morgan promised.

"We'll take down Validar, take back the Emblem, and get out of there before they can turn on us," Chrom agreed.

* * *

><p>Dragon's Table proved easy to find. Easier than they had hoped, as a matter of fact. The Shepherds stepped onto a desiccated wasteland, and immediately saw two protrusions in the distance. One was a magnificent Grimleal temple, possessed of the same gothic architecture and stifling atmosphere that plagued the temple on Carrion Isle, appearing gloomy despite the elaborate decorations. The other was a colossal sculpture, shaped like a dragon's skeleton. The entire effigy seemed to be crafted from pitch-black stone. The surfaces of the bones were glassy, and glinted under the morning sun. Massive fangs lined the jaw of the draconic skull, and there were six hollow eye sockets, three on each side, that seemed to be staring straight at the Shepherds. Two enormous curved horns protruded from the skull, curving out to the side before pointing forward. Along its back, six massive skeletal wings emerged.<p>

"That's him…" Lucina said faintly, as her gaze rested upon the aberrant icon. When Chrom looked at her alarmed, she shook her head quickly. "I don't know if those are his actual bones, or just an effigy," Lucina said. "But the resemblance is uncanny."

For a long while, none of the Shepherds could speak. Each of them were imagining the sculpture alive, with leathery wings and dark scales, drifting through the skies. If the effigy had been built to scale, Grima was larger than any building any of them had ever seen. Bigger than many villages, even.

"We have stop Validar," Chrom said, in a hushed voice. "We can't let that monster return to life." For the first time, Chrom realized that even with the fabled Awakening on their side, Grima could very well prove unstoppable. Following his lead, the Shepherds continued towards the distant temple with renewed determination.

When they arrived, they found the entrance blocked by none other than Aversa and Validar. Twelve risen were scattered on the field around them, garbed in fabulous armor and robes, and armed with splendorous weapons that set them apart from the common undead servants of Grima.

"It seemed our friends made impressive speed," Validar commented. "We shall not have to wait long after all. Delay them, Aversa. But carefully."

"Validar!" Chrom cried, all his pent up frustrations and anger finding a target at last.

"Fools! Do you know where you've come!?" Validar cackled loudly, so that the Shepherds could hear him even though they remained a hundred paces away.

"We're here to put an end to this!" Chrom declared defiantly.

Validar laughed maniacally. "My dear boy, we already know how this story ends! Are you so eager to meet your own fatal destiny?"

"To hell with your destiny!" Lucina cried.

Aversa laughed, her sultry, mocking voice grating on their nerves. "You would challenge your fate, little girl? And here I thought our late exalt suffered from delusions of grandeur."

"Fate has already been changed!" Chrom insisted.

"Your victory over sad little Gangrel, so consumed by his hatred? Or perhaps the defeat of that impetuous oaf, Walhart? The sad little man who thought to conquer the world through the strength of humanity alone? They were preordained!" Aversa declared. "You are just another fool in motley, capering on the stage! Even your precious Emmeryn was still planted in the ground!"

"But… that was Gangrel's will," Frederick protested.

Aversa laughed again. "I can see why Robin has to do your thinking for you – none of you seem capable of listening. Speaking of which, where is my dear little brother?"

"Your what!?" Chrom gasped, horrified.

Validar sighed. "That boy continues to be a thorn in my side. I suppose he finds it funny to make his old man seek him out. Aversa, I will continue with the preparations. If Robin would sooner stay away then I suppose we will have the pleasure of slaughtering his friends to ourselves. He can't hide from us forever." With that, Validar turned and stepped into the temple.

"Explain!" Chrom demanded fiercely. Validar did not turn back, and Chrom turned his angry glare towards Aversa instead.

"Oh, if I must," Aversa said with a mock sigh. "Listen closely, my foolish prince. All of this – every word and action – has been orchestrated. Validar and I used the late Mad King, in life and death. His demise threw Plegia into chaos. It drove our people to Grima, and now, their life force can be laid before the dragon en masse."

Chrom grimaced. "So you would sacrifice your own people to Grima?"

"It's called the Table for a reason, you naïve little man. It is where Grima feeds! The Grimleal have gladly offered themselves and pray for his return! Today, the Table overflows with bounty, and with the Fire Emblem at hand, their prayers will be answered!" Aversa announced.

"I will never allow that to happen!" Chrom roared, as he drew Falchion. The other Shepherds followed suit, drawing their own weapons. "We will stop you! We will stop Grima!"

"Goodness!" Aversa teased. "Now you're starting to sound like Walhart, the big bully. He intended to destroy Grima as well, you know. Our thanks, incidentally, for taking him off the stage for us."

Chrom's eyes lit with sudden understanding. "That's why you gave us the ships and gold. You needed us to defeat Walhart for you!"

"Oh, so you do have a brain of your own!" Aversa cheered.

"I'll never understand minions like you and Excellus," Gaius interrupted. Chrom and Aversa both turned to the rogue in surprise. "You have no lives of your own. You live only to serve at the beck and call of your masters. It's quite pathetic," Gaius concluded casually.

"Please, don't lump me in with that half-witted little toad," Aversa said, rolling her eyes. "Excellus was nothing but a pawn on our board. His ambition was our insurance against Walhart's threat. If you had failed, he might have destroyed the empire from inside. All it took was my little promise to him, the throne of Valm in exchange for the Fire Emblem. He jumped at the offer! Well, as much as the fat little piggy could jump."

"I've heard enough!" Chrom cried. The Shepherds began advancing.

"I'm afraid Master Validar was quite clear," Aversa said, feigning an apologetic tone. "He is not to be disturbed. But fear not. I have brought the Deadlords to keep you entertained. These twelve were mighty warriors in life, and even greater, now, in death!"

At her words, the twelve risen facing them drew their weapons and charged.

* * *

><p>One glance at the approaching foes told Morgan everything she needed to know. These were not common soldiers or villagers held in the throes of undeath. Their graceful movements and the practiced ease by which they held their weapons confirmed Aversa's words. Though the Shepherds had these foes outnumbered, they might not hold as clear of an advantage as they would have expected.<p>

"Libra, Lissa, Anna," Morgan called out. "Get those rescue staves ready – we may need them. Keep yourselves back so if anyone's hurt you can get them back to safety." As the three stepped back, staves held ready, Morgan began trying to divide her own forces. Three of the Deadlords were mounted and would reach the Shepherds before the others, but if they proved to be as skilled and resilient as Morgan feared, the others would be upon them before the Shepherds could finish those three off. They would need more time.

To compound the difficulty, one of the Deadlords was carrying a fabulous bow, finely polished and dusted with gold. The marksman held his bow, his movements far more relaxed and fluid than any risen Morgan had noted before. With a jolt, Morgan recognized the weapon from a drawing in one of her historical texts – Yewfelle, one of the holy weapons used by the famed marksman, Ulir, of the twelve legendary crusaders who once waged a holy war on the faraway continent of Jugdral.

Twelve Deadlords. Morgan could only hope that it was a coincidence, and that they weren't truly facing remnants of the twelve legendary crusaders. Thankfully, the only other Deadlord carrying a bow was a mounted marksman, and apart from the larger group. His bow had an unusual compound design and was carved from pale, white wood. Morgan signaled for the other Pegasus knights and Cherche to advance on the nine non-mounted Deadlords, and pulled forth her long-ranged lightning tome. Anna had warned her against using it extensively, but they could not take the risk of fighting all twelve of these enigmatic Deadlords at the same time.

To Morgan's surprise, though the bolt she called down struck the archer squarely, the stubborn risen held onto his mighty bow, and quickly regained his footing. A second, third, and fourth bolt struck before the risen finally collapsed to dust. And then the Shepherd fliers were upon them. Javelins rained upon the eight remaining Deadlords as the Shepherd cavalry met with the three mounted Deadlords.

Then the Shepherds met the mounted Deadlords, too, and Sully cried out in surprise, as one of them pulled forth a tome. A fierce blast of lightning sent Sully flying from her steed. She caught the reins at the last minute and her loyal mount tried to drag her away. The mounted sorcerer sent a second devastating bolt in her direction, but Libra reacted first. A wave of magic fell over Sully and her mount, and the two of them seemed to become nothing but light. The light then soared towards Libra, depositing the wounded knight and her steed at his side.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Frederick quickly dismounted the sorcerer. Stahl intercepted a second Deadlord, a mounted lancer. The lancer spun his own magnificent weapon around, the intricate spearhead cutting right through Stahl's plated bracer, nearly taking his hand while neatly disarming the young knight. A well-placed arrow from Virion drove the lancer back before he could finish Stahl, and Stahl immediately retreated, stifling his own cries as he retreated.

Then the other Shepherds caught up. Chrom leapt upon the fallen sorcerer, destroying the Deadlord before he could rise again. The lancer's armor had deflected Virion's shot easily enough, but was not nearly strong enough to withstand the wrath of a Manakete, as Nowi joined the fray, a wave of crushing ice battering the undead knight. Meanwhile, the last mounted Deadlord had fallen back and was raining arrows onto the Shepherds. Two arrows struck Chrom, his reflexes barely keeping the arrows from piercing his heart. One drove through his shoulder instead, and another pierced his leg. Lissa quickly invoked her own staff and pulled Chrom back to her side where she could immediately heal the wounds, as Tiki, also shape-shifted, descended upon the mounted marksman. Vaike and Frederick flanked and fell upon the battered lancer, quickly destroying the last of their mounted foes.

Meanwhile, the Shepherd fliers were clearly at a disadvantage against the remaining eight Deadlords. One heavily armored Deadlord carried a lance quite similar to Passion. Cordelia swooped and swerved around him, landing multiple blows, but his armor could deflect even Passion's keen edge. Despite his encumbering shell, the Deadlord's counterattacks were fast and relentless, and Cordelia only barely managed to extract herself from the battle before one of the powerful thrusts connected. A pair of the Deadlords, one female and one male, were dressed in elaborately decorated robes. The male mage sent a powerful gust into the air, and despite Caeda's innate magical resistance, Cynthia was nearly thrown from her valiant steed. Upon seeing the wind magic used against them, Cherche retreated immediately, knowing that Minerva didn't share the magical resistance that the Pegasi enjoyed.

The female risen mage, upon seeing Cherche flee, shot a thin pulse of fire at the retreating wyvern. As the spell connected, it erupted into a massive flaming explosion. Minerva wailed in agony as she began to plummet to the ground below. Cherche had been tossed from her beloved wyvern's back. She, too, began to fall, appearing to be unconscious or worst. Anna rushed forward quickly, getting in range just in time to whisk back the grievously wounded wyvern and rider.

With another horrible jolt, Morgan realized the devastating spell could only be Valflame, a legendary fire tome that once belonged to Emperor Arvis. It, too, had once belonged to one of the twelve legendary crusaders. "Mother! Take her down!" Morgan cried, as she shot forward to join the battle. As Morgan approached, she fired a flaming salvo at the mage carrying the wind tome, hoping to distract him. As she expected though, the robes were magic-retardant, and she quickly swerved aside just in time to avoid the counterattack.

The diversion was sufficient. Trusting in her daughter's words, Cordelia dove at the mage carrying Valflame, narrowly avoiding a fire spell aimed towards her. The spell exploded behind her, as Passion tore through the magical-resistant robes and impaled the dangerous Deadlord. The tome flew from the monster's grasp, and Cordelia caught it neatly, before flying away, escaping a barrage of wind magic. Cynthia had returned to field, and with her mother, dove towards the remaining Deadlord mage. The mage spun to face them, but it was too late, and Cynthia's handmade silver lance tore into the Deadlord's chest even as Sumia's javelin pierced his skull.

As the Pegasus knights retreated, only six of the Deadlords remained standing, and the remaining Shepherds quickly surrounded them, as Libra and Lissa tended desperately to Chrom, Sully, and Cherche. Morgan nodded, relieved, noting that Cherche and Minerva both appeared to be still alive, though their wounds would likely keep them from fighting on.

Down below, Gaius, Lon'qu, and Gregor met their match in a single swordswoman. Like Lon'qu, her sword had been designed with a curved blade. But as Lon'qu tried to parry a lightning-fast strike, he felt his own sword shatter, and her retreated just in time, holding the now useless weapon. Their foe was faster than any opponent any of them had ever faced, faster still than Yen'fay had been. The skilled Shepherds only barely managed to keep the Deadlord from fatally wounding them, as her blade danced and weaved around their weapons. After only a few minutes, Gaius and Gregor both fell back as well, each bleeding from multiple cuts. The Deadlord made to follow, but was quickly intercepted by Severa and Owain.

Severa proved to be almost as fast as the Deadlord, and with her long range, she was able to hold her own, keeping the Deadlord back. Owain circled their foe silently for several seconds before finding an opening. "RADIANT DAWN!" Owain cried as he charged forward. His cry alerted his adversary, who turned with incredible speed to meet his charge. But that, too, had been intended. Owain had thrown his sword before falling back, and even as the skilled undead swordswomen deflected it neatly, Severa sent Passion cutting through the Deadlord's chest.

The remaining Deadlords were now sorely pressed, although they fought back fiercely. Still, Morgan knew without a doubt that her friends below would triumph. Only two concerns remained – time, and Aversa. "Morgan!" Cordelia called, and Morgan spun just in time to see her mother toss a tome towards her. Valflame.

Morgan fired off the mighty tome, instantly melting away the heavily armored Deadlord that her mother had been unable to bring down earlier. The Shepherds nearby were startled, but their tactician had observed the Deadlord's use of the tome closely, and her aim was perfect, the flames falling just short of her allies. As Morgan came out of her dive and turned back to the battle, she expected the remaining Deadlords to fall quickly now that their juggernaut had been defeated. But instead, she found the Shepherds in retreat. A cloud of shimmering emerald flames appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and clung to Kellam's armor. Though the flames didn't damage his armor, the armored knight seemed to be writhing in pain as the other Shepherds pulled him back, batting at the flames. A second cloud appeared, this one attaching itself to Nowi, who dived to the ground and thrashed wildly, trying to break free of the curse.

With a sinking feeling in her chest, Morgan looked at the gate. It was exactly as she had expected – Aversa was conjuring from a dark tome, likely one similar to the lightning tome she had used earlier. Morgan rushed to try to stop Aversa, but was too late. Aversa released another cloud from the spell, this one striking Lon'qu. The speedy swordsman had managed to avoid most of the flames, but had still been forced back.

Knowing she was out of time, Aversa quickly exchanged her tome for a different one. It, too, was bound in the dark violet leather that was so often used for dark magic tomes. As Morgan approached, Aversa drew forth a crackling ball of aphotic lightning and hurled it at her. Like many dark spells, the hex snaked through the air seemingly at random. The projectile itself went way off mark, but the energy seemed to siphon off as the bolt traveled, some of the forked bolts nearly catching Morgan as she banked hard to the side.

But Morgan wasn't alone. Cordelia, upon seeing her daughter soar towards Aversa, had ascended, hoping to escape the Plegian witch's notice. As Aversa fired off that spell, Cordelia dived, and Aversa noticed at the last moment, turning aside just in time. In her moment of distraction, Morgan fired off a powerful wind spell.

"Darn!" Morgan cried aloud in dismay, realizing her error as soon as she had cast the spell. The opportunity was wasted, as Aversa's black leather armor flashed with magic-repellant runes. Along with the black Pegasus's innate magical resistance, it was sufficient to diffuse Morgan's spell entirely. Ignoring Morgan completely, Aversa fired off another blast of dark lightning at Cordelia, forcing her away.

Morgan had wasted her first opening, and she wasn't going to waste this one. With Eternity in one hand, and a staff in the other, Morgan flew straight by Aversa. The Plegian heard the rush of wings and banked, but Morgan followed swiftly. Aversa was out of reach, but her black Pegasus was not. Eternity bit into the creature's wings, and it began to plummet to the ground below, taking Aversa with it. As soon as the blow connected, Morgan went into a dive, activating the staff.

A moment before her steed hit the ground, Aversa leapt from its back, landing evenly. She began to turn to fire another spell at Morgan, but realized immediately she had a more pressing concern. The devious tactician had summoned Lucina from across the battle field, who appeared right in front of Aversa.

"My turn!" Lucina cried, thrusting Falchion straight ahead. Aversa had no time to react, or even cry out, before the legendary sword plunged through her heart.

"Finally…" Aversa gasped, as she keeled over. "Sweet death… pain… ends…"

Behind Lucina, the last of the Deadlords had fallen, but the princess did not notice. For, by some cruel twist of fate, the fatal wound Lucina had dealt to their adversary, and Aversa's posture as she crumpled, almost exactly mirrored the witch's purported brother's. Only when she heard Morgan calling her name from nearby, as if she had been trying to get her attention for some time, did Lucina manage to tear her gaze from the horrible sight.

"We're almost there, Robin. It's almost over," Lucina promised quietly.

"Huh?" Morgan asked, too far to have made out her whispers clearly.

"Nothing," Lucina assured, as she wiped the blood from Falchion and moved to rejoin the other Shepherds. The Deadlords had left a variety of unique weaponry behind. The mounted lancer's fine lance, Morgan immediately identified as Gungnir, and the skilled swordswoman's blade appeared to be Balmung, both weapons that Morgan remembered seeing sketches of in her texts detailing the twelve crusaders. Gungnir was quickly passed to Frederick, and Balmung to Lon'qu, to replace his broken sword.

They needed to press on quickly, but a fine war axe caught Morgan's eye, which she entrusted to Vaike. Virion had already retrieved Yewfelle. They would return for the rest later, as none of the scattered weapons looked to be too far superior to the weaponry the Shepherds already carried.

Unfortunately, several of the Shepherds bore rather severe injuries. Cherche had only barely recovered consciousness, and while Minerva was still alive, the wyvern would likely be unable to fly for at least a couple days, Libra had warned. Sully had broken her arm rather badly in the fall. The healing magic had done what it could, but she held her lance awkwardly still. Kellam was still walking stiffly; Aversa's magical assault had fallen just short of killing him. Chrom was about to ask them to stay outside when all three of them burst into protest. "Fine," Chrom agreed. "But stay back – none of you can fight well in your condition."

"There's still no sign of Flavia," Morgan noted, as they gathered around the temple entrance.

"They're probably still a couple hours away," Frederick remarked.

"We don't have time to wait for them," Chrom reminded urgently. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Like Validar's castle on Carrion Isle, the temple's hallways were disproportionately tall, and dimly lit by flickering torches, spaced evenly, but far too distant from each other. Though it was a rather warm day, it seemed as though a strange chill had been infused into the temple, and many of the Shepherds found themselves shivering, and moving closer to each other.<p>

Only a few of them seemed unbothered. Chrom and Lucina had taken the lead, both of them entirely focused on what they knew lied ahead, and neither of them even seemed to notice the grim decorations. Frederick seemed to be as stoic as always, and though he was glancing around every corner suspiciously, he, too, seemed to take little note of the gloomy atmosphere. Finally, Cordelia was marching along, her face entirely impassive. Still, she kindly took Severa's hand, when she noticed her older daughter trembling slightly.

Cordelia turned, looking for Morgan, wondering if her younger daughter, too, was feeling uncomfortable in this unholy place. She found Morgan following right behind her, seemingly lost in her thoughts. "Are you alright, Morgan?" Cordelia asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Morgan answered absentmindedly. "I'm just… thinking about my memories."

"Again?" Severa asked, a nervous edge in her voice. "You aren't going to start banging our head against a wall again, are you?"

"No, it didn't really help anyways," Morgan said listlessly. "I just wish I knew why… I know I must have loved you two as much as I loved Father. So why are all of those memories gone? I bet we had a million wonderful memories together, and the thought of having lost them… I feel like I've failed you." Her eyes grew wet with tears.

"Come now, Morgan. No tears," Cordelia soothed, as she moved to Morgan's side. "Even if you don't know it, there has to be an explanation right? And I know it's not for the lack of love," she added, as she held her daughter tightly.

"Morgan, if your memories are gone, then they're gone," Severa said gently. "There's no reason to push it. Mom and I will always be here for you, anyways. You've already found a lot of new memories, haven't you?"

"I guess you're right," Morgan said.

"Of course she is," Cordelia said gently. "Now, stay sharp, alright? This will all be over soon."


	6. Chapter 4: Hope Eclipsed

**Chapter 4: Hope Eclipsed**

The Shepherds paced uneasily down the wide hallway. Their footsteps clattered loudly on the stone floor, reverberating along the polished black marble floors and through the otherwise silent temple. Instinctively, they tried to step lightly to reduce the sound, although in truth, there was no reason to. Validar surely knew they were on their way.

The flickering torchlight periodically illuminated the gothic suits of armor set upon the pedestals lining the walls. Though there were at least four distinct designs, every suit of armor had the same skull-like visor, leering eerily at the Shepherds as they marched by. Large murals depicting Grima, the fell dragon, were painted along some of the walls, beautiful and terrible at the same time.

As they neared their destination, the chilling, foreboding aura of the temple only increased. At the front of their procession were Chrom and Lucina. Both of them had their swords drawn: Falchion, the one of this timeline and the one Lucina had brought back from hers. Even in the dim torchlight, both blades gleamed brightly.

A wide archway came into sight, the door leading into a large antechamber. Though the lighting was insufficient for them to make out anything in the chamber ahead, Chrom somehow knew, with absolute certainty, that Validar awaited them in the next room.

"Is everyone ready?" Chrom asked. Though he should have been nervous, with the entire world on the brink of calamity, Chrom's voice remained steady and full of conviction. He was confident in himself and the Shepherds. How could he not be, after all they had overcome? And more importantly, he was determined to succeed.

He was determined not to disappoint Robin.

A quick glance around told him that the others were all entertaining similar thoughts. Even those who had been too grievously wounded to continue fighting had followed, needing to see this through.

"We're right behind you, Father," Lucina promised, standing by his side.

Chrom's gaze met each of his loyal friends in turn, and he knew it was time. Chrom stepped over the threshold into the antechamber, ready to face their destiny, his will to fight burning brighter than ever.

* * *

><p>When Chrom stepped into the room, he immediately spotted Validar. The sorcerer stood near the wall, near a tall sculpture of a six-winged, six-eyed dragon. Grimleal runes were inscribed in a pattern of concentric circles on the floor around Validar, starting a few feet from the statue. On the far side of the room, dozens of Grimleal warriors stood waiting. Unlike the Grimleal the Shepherds had battled on the road, these cultists were clearly veterans of many battles, and carried their fine weapons comfortably.<p>

Morgan immediately motioned for the other Shepherds to accompany her, and they sidled along the wall to stand facing the Grimleal, leaving Validar to Chrom and Lucina.

"Validar!" Chrom challenged. Though he meant to call out impassively, his composure slipped, and a hint of vitriol could be heard in his commanding voice.

"Prince Chrom of Ylisse," Validar acknowledged, though he still faced the sculpture. "You are welcome here. I must say, it pleases me to know that you have come to witness the glorious culmination of your failure. The Fire Emblem is mine. The Dragon's Table is set for a feast. The stage is set, and Master Grima shall soon awaken."

"No!" Lucina cried out in denial. "Grima must never return to this world!"

Validar turned. He sneered when he noticed that Robin was still absent. "Hmph. So that damnable son of mine hides from me even now. You disappoint me, Robin. You must know you cannot hide from me forever."

"Shut up!" Chrom cried, brandishing his sword at the Plegian sorcerer. Lucina, standing behind him, followed suit.

"Very well, Robin," Validar growled, his voice dripping with venom. "I suppose if your foolish friends are so quick to offer me their lives while you cower in the shadows, I shall have to accept them." Validar raised his hand, firing off a stream of black fire. Chrom and Lucina sidestepped the spell and charged forward, and on the other side of the room, the Shepherds charged as well, meeting the Grimleal legion.

* * *

><p>Strangely enough, Morgan found herself far more comfortable in this battle than she had in the last. The Shepherds were outnumbered at least three-to-one, but though their opponents all appeared to be reasonably skilled, Morgan was confident her friends would prove stronger. Since the Shepherds were a relatively small strike force, most of her studies were focused on dealing with an enemy with superior numbers. The battle with the Deadlords had been an odd reversal, where their opponents had the individually stronger fighters, and there had been many close calls as a result.<p>

Immediately, Frederick, Stahl, Gregor, Donnel, Vaike, Nowi, and Tiki stepped forth, forming an advancing defensive line. The hall was tall enough to allow the Pegasi to fly safely, so Sumia and Cynthia were hovering about the Shepherd's line, ready to rain javelins upon their foes once the Grimleal were within range.

Like in the battle with the Deadlords, Libra, Lissa, and Anna hung near the back of the formation, ready to use their staves to recall anyone who was in danger. Virion, astride his horse, remained in the center, along with Tharja, Henry, Miriel, and Ricken. Olivia and Lon'qu stood just behind the line, ready to enter the fray if any of the Grimleal managed to slip past their front line.

Meanwhile, Owain, Severa, and Cordelia remained with Morgan, the four of them detaching themselves from the rest of the Shepherds. Morgan had positioned them to flank the Grimleal, should their enemies try to slip around the Shepherd's formation. In the meantime, Severa and Owain advanced, cutting down Grimleal until the cultists gave chase. When their opponents did, the two of them retreated, with Morgan and Cordelia slowing the pursuit from above. Valflame proved particularly effective, often taking down two, or even three of the cultists in a single cast.

Not far away, Frederick, Lon'qu, and Vaike were putting their new weapons to great use. Several Grimleal knights, confident that their foes would not be able to break through their heavy armor and shields, advanced to meet the Shepherds. But battling the Valmese with their finely crafted armor had accustomed the Shepherds to this type of foe, and the Grimleal smiths weren't nearly as skilled as the Valmese. Frederick and Vaike simply tore right through their armor with their mighty weapons. Lon'qu proved no less deadly, expertly finding the seams in the sturdy armor.

Within only a few minutes, the Grimleal were in full retreat, trying to extract themselves from the seemingly unstoppable Shepherds long enough to regroup. Morgan, seeing that victory had been secured already, quickly led the group by her side toward where Validar, Chrom, and Lucina were still battling.

* * *

><p>The Ylissean bloodline had always been known for their fine swordsmen. After all, the blood of Hero-King Marth himself ran through their veins, as well as the first exalt. But Chrom had long since surpassed even those high expectations, and his daughter, who now fought beside him, was quite nearly his equal.<p>

But Validar rivalled the pair. The skilled Grimleal sorcerer had grown far stronger since the battle in Castle Ylisse's garden, and even then, Robin, Chrom, and Gaius together had only just beaten him. At first, the battle seemed to favor the skilled Ylissean royals, as the two of them flanked the Grimleal sorcerer. But Validar had turned the tables with a new trick. He conjured a rift nearly instantly. Fearing that their foe would escape, Chrom charged towards the rift immediately, but the rift had merely carried Validar ahead a few steps, past the charging warrior. The sorcerer turned and unleashed a spell, and a wave of aphotic energy caught Chrom squarely on the back. Only Lucina's timely intervention had stopped Validar from finishing Chrom then and there, as she charged and forcibly drew Validar's attention to her instead.

Since then, the battle had become quite even. The two skilled warriors danced around Validar's potent magic, but every time they closed in to strike, Validar simply gated himself away from them. As Lucina attempted a particularly risky diving strike, Validar punished her, pulling yet another technique out of his voluminous sleeves. In a blink of an eye, a wall of black fire burst out of thin air. Lucina was moving too quickly to change her direction, and could only barrel through it. Validar was long gone, as was the wall of flames, but some of the black fire clung to Lucina, draining her strength and clouding her vision.

Chrom immediately moved to cover her, and once again barely forced Validar back. Before the battle, Morgan had demanded that both Chrom and Lucina carry a quick-acting healing elixir into the battle, which Lucina used now to mitigate the debilitating effects of the fire wall. But as she was drinking the potent tonic, Validar pressed his advantage. He matched Chrom's speed and traded blows with Chrom – Falchion struck a glancing blow against the sorcerer's enchanted bracers, the cloth bracers somehow repelling Falchion's keen edge with only a scratch, while Chrom was sent crashing to the ground several paces away.

Chrom leapt back to his feet immediately, knowing the value of each precious second in this battle. He was battered and bleeding from several minor cuts, but thankfully, the wounds were not too severe. Again, he charged, this time side-by-side with Lucina, the two of them moving constantly to avoid the continued magical onslaught.

A blur of motion caught Chrom's attention, as Morgan approached, followed by Cordelia, Owain and Severa riding behind them. Chrom let out a sigh of relief, as it appeared they had been given a reprieve. But their cagey adversary wasn't out of tricks yet. There was a line of runes, etched directly into the black stone floor. In the dim lighting, they had not been visible before, but now they glowed white hot with energy. A black and violet barrier, partially translucent and shimmering as if it were made from fire, emerged from the runes, neatly isolating Chrom and Lucina from their allies. "So long as the dark barrier stands, no other soul can reach us! You must face your grim fate alone!" Validar roared, as the Shepherds watched helplessly.

And so their duel continued. All three combatants continued to dance around the arena formed by the dark barrier, until Lucina began to notice a pattern in Validar's escapes. Finally, anticipating one of the rifts, Lucina did a backflip, twisting in midair, just as Validar gated himself away from Chrom. Validar emerged and had to retreat immediately, but was too slow – Lucina's blade tore deeply into the sorcerer's left arm.

Validar howled in rage and retaliated instantly. Chrom had spun around upon seeing Lucina's acrobatic flip, and he dived, barely pushing Lucina away from the magical wave in time, taking the brunt of the spell himself. As he tumbled away, he drew and uncorked his own elixir, quaffing the draught quickly.

But Validar was too fast. Validar gated himself away from Lucina, and appeared directly in front of Chrom. Before Chrom could bring Falchion to bear, another wave hurled Chrom away. Lucina sprinted forward but was too late – Validar sidestepped her attack, and third aphotic wave sent her reeling, too.

Validar grinned cruelly at the two fallen Ylissean royals, believing the battle to be at its end. "Robin, why do you insist on playing these silly games?" Validar asked loudly, still believing Robin to be hidden somewhere nearby. "You only delay the inevitable! Your friends can't defeat me. Come and face me yourself, and save me the bother of hunting you down, boy!"

"Robin…" Chrom gasped, climbing to his feet once more.

"Hah! You hear your friend desperately pleading to you, boy?" Validar cackled gleefully. "Will you truly abandon them to their fate?" His grin faded somewhat as Chrom met his gaze, the prince's eyes full of rage and pain.

"Robin… is… dead!" Chrom roared, charging forward, channeling the frustration and helplessness had he felt since Robin's passing into a borderline uncontrollable rage.

So shocked was Validar by that proclamation that he nearly didn't gate himself away in time. Chrom's blade bit deeply into the sorcerer's shoulder before the rift appeared. Validar appeared on the other side of the room, clutching his bleeding shoulder with his wounded arm, and wearing an expression of shock and horror.

"What!? That's impossible!" Validar protested. "You killed him!?"

The accusation proved too much, and something inside Chrom snapped. Shouting incoherently, Chrom charged across the room again. Validar reflexively fired off a wave of dampening flames, but Chrom's ire could not be deflected, this time. Ignoring the pain, Chrom forced his way through the debilitating curse, and for the first time this battle, as Validar's gaze met the infuriated prince's, fear flooded through the Grimleal sorcerer's heart. He panicked, summoning another rift and retreating once more.

Again, Lucina was waiting. As Validar emerged, Lucina's blade came down hard on his left shoulder, cutting diagonally into his chest. The Plegian sorcerer fell back with a grunt, disbelief sprawled across his cruel visage. Chrom, seeing the battle was over, stalked towards the fallen sorcerer, wearing a mask of unmistakable and utter loathing.

"_You _killed him!" Chrom spat bitterly, as he reached the dying man. "Robin took his own life," Chrom continued. "Because of your insane dreams and wretched curses! You killed Robin, you vile monster!"

"No!" Validar managed to gasp, with his dying breath. "This is… all… wrong…" But before he could protest further, Chrom drove Falchion into the wicked sorcerer's black heart. The deposed monarch stiffened, and the spark of life left his eyes. Chrom lifted the weapon and kicked Validar's corpse free of the blade.

As Validar's life ended, the barrier fell. On the other side of the room, the Shepherds had long since dispatched the rest of the Grimleal, and now slowly made their way across. Lucina sheathed her own weapon, before putting a comforting hand on her father's shoulder.

"We did it, Robin," Chrom said hoarsely. "That's the end of him and his mad schemes." He closed his eyes, and prayed silently that no matter where his friend's spirit rested, the gods would be kind enough to allow him to watch, and that Robin could rest easy, knowing his family would be safe now with their futures secured.

In the empty antechamber, Chrom's quiet words echoed loudly. A wave of mixed emotions washed over the Shepherds. They had won. Validar was dead. All they had to do was retrieve the Fire Emblem, and Grima would slumber on. But for now, the relief and hope was tempered by loss and grief, for the price of their victory had been far too great.

* * *

><p>"Come on, let's hurry!" Flavia barked. Their messenger had returned in the wee hours of the morning. She knew Chrom and Morgan were right – the sands of time were running out. But that didn't mean she was ready to sit this fight out. She had immediately roused her raiding party, including a few special guests that Chrom probably wasn't expecting. She knew Morgan had the whole fight planned out, but then again, what they had planned and what actually happened were never quite the same, anyways.<p>

When they found Aversa's corpse and a few scattered weapons amidst piles of ash at the entrance to the temple, they knew the battle would likely have started already. Hopefully Validar was already dead… but if not, it was time to tip the scales, as their late friend would have said.

* * *

><p>Morgan was about to interrupt the moment of reflection. With Validar dead it probably wasn't too great a risk, but there was no sense in leaving the Fire Emblem in the hands of the Grimleal any longer than they had to. But her words caught in her throat, as the ever observant tactician spotted a subtle movement in the shadows behind Chrom and Lucina.<p>

Morgan tried to shout a warning, instead. But the familiar robed silhouette took her breath away, and again, her words died before she could give them voice. Two flaming braziers placed near the statue of the fell dragon flickered, momentarily revealing the man's platinum-blond hair and the golden tassels decorating his robe.

And then the silence was split by the deafening roar of flames, as a torrent of fire barreled across the hall, the scorching heat cracking the marble floor as it passed. Both Chrom and Lucina instinctively tried to roll away, but the flames still grazed Lucina, reddening her skin, and it caught Chrom's arm as he dived. Chrom howled in agony, as the Shepherds drew their weapons, turning towards the source of the spell.

The man stepped into the revealing light, and the Shepherds gasped collectively. It was not a man, after all, but a risen. A Deadlord, who moved with the graceful stride of a swordsman, and carried his weapons with practiced ease. A tactician, with messy platinum-blond hair complimenting his glowing crimson eyes, violet, ashen skin, and a dispassionate, empty stare.

They gazed upon the distinctive form of Robin, the thirteenth Deadlord. Complete with his robe and armor, with Eternity, which had been buried with him, held loosely in one hand, and a fire tome readied in the other.

"Validar," Lucina moaned quietly, horrified. "What have you done?" Beside her, Chrom's own cries of pain fell silent, as he recognized the foe now standing before them. As he realized who had attacked them, he could no longer feel his burnt and withered sword arm. In fact, he could no longer feel at all, aside from the rapid beating of his heart.

"I'm afraid dear old Validar cannot take the credit for this particular gambit, 'Marth'," a voice announced from behind the undead Robin. Upon recognizing the voice, the Shepherd's eyes only widened further.

Out of the shadows stepped another figure, bearing the same platinum-blond hair, dark robe, and gold-leafed armor as the Deadlord he stood beside, and with a familiar, confident grin on his face. Another Robin, alive and well, though unlike the risen, he did not carry any weapons.

"You may have altered the course of history, but I find this new destination to my liking," the man continued, nonchalantly.

"Who are you!?" Cordelia cried, sprinting forward. "What have you done with Robin!?"

The man's face lit up when he saw her. "Cordelia! It has been so very long, hasn't it?" he greeted cordially. "I must say, you left a stronger impression on me than I thought. Killing you did sting my heart, and, oddly enough, I even considered bringing you back to my side. Though of course, Naga and her little shenanigans have been keeping me quite busy."

Cordelia fell silent, her eyes widening in horror despite the seemingly nonsensical remark, and she backed away with a small cry.

"Who are you, really!?" Chrom demanded angrily. The searing pain in his arm returned, but he shrugged it off.

The man who looked like Robin snorted derisively. "Hah. You'd never know that I was the one with amnesia. Still haven't figured it out yet? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Thinking never really was your strong suit, Chrom."

The Shepherds bristled at the insult, but still, none of them dared move. "Wait!" Chrom realized. "You're the hierophant we met at Carrion Isle before!"

"Oh, so you do remember!" the mysterious man answered mockingly. "If only you knew the rest of it," he continued with a sigh. When the Shepherds remained silent, he went on. "I suppose I should elucidate, for old time's sake. There's really no hurry.

"Arrogant Validar called himself my father," the man said, staring at the sorcerer's corpse with an almost pitying look. "I suppose it's almost true. But Robin wasn't even truly human. More accurately, Validar was the vessel's _creator_."

"What… what are you saying?" Lucina asked, horrified.

The man chuckled. "You still don't recognize me, little one? Even after I've plagued your dreams for so long?" A wild, wicked look came to his face, a discordantly cruel expression on the face of their kind and optimistic friend.

_"I am the wings of despair. I am the breath of ruin. I am the fell dragon, Grima."_

For a moment, all of the Shepherds felled into a stunned silence.

"H-How is that possible?" Chrom finally stammered.

Grima grinned cruelly. "You _still_ don't understand?" he taunted again. "Robin and I are one and the same. We always have been."

"Liar!" Cordelia cried out, her voice fraught with terror and disbelief.

"I didn't mean to keep it secret from you, love," Grima said, with mock playfulness. "I really didn't remember. You see, Robin wasn't even really human to begin with. For decades, the Grimleal have tried to breed the perfect vessel. But no human could truly be worthy of the might of the fell dragon. Validar was as close as they ever got. So instead, I lent them a fragment of my own essence. They sought out a woman capable of bearing a worthy host, and infused my blood and essence into her. That woman became my mother, and the magic of the fell dragon, the father.

"But though her mind and flesh were strong, her will was weak. The damnable woman stole the child from the crib and fled." Grima gestured towards Validar's corpse. "This arrogant and inept servant of mine and his adopted daughter spent years pursuing her futilely, until at last he enacted another dark rite, utilizing the essence embedded deep in me. I suppose the ritual probably killed my mother. But it was never meant to be used from such distance. The spell cost this vessel its memories, and isolated the fragment of my soul contained within. Thankfully, you came along, Chrom.

"I imagine you can figure out the rest. The Emblem was stolen, and after we defeated the Valmese, we came here to take it back. As he was dying, Validar called to my essence, unlocking it once more. I destroyed you, Chrom. And with the Fire Emblem, the rest of my powers could manifest, and I could claim the sacrifices laid at the Dragon's Table. Victory was mine, but of course, that wretched Naga was not content with admitting defeat. So when Lucina decided to come back in time, I came with her, arriving at a time just before she did. Which is why your Robin saw a glimpse of my triumph."

Lucina gasped. "You're the Robin from my timeline," she said in a horrified tone, understanding at last.

"That's right," Grima answered cheerfully. "I'm the Robin who accepted his birthright. I'm the Robin who became the god he was always destined to be. It truly is a shame that the fragment of my soul that I implanted within Robin was too weak. I had hoped the Robin of this world, the rightful god, could claim his title. But instead, he went and put a sword through his own heart. Pathetic, isn't it?"

"No!" Chrom protested. "He fought you! He fought you until the end!"

"You aren't listening, Chrom," Grima said, laughing. "Robin's soul is but a portion of my essence. Robin's body was a work of dark magic itself. Your petty bonds may have tainted that fragment of my soul, but it matters not, especially now that I have been forced to restore the vessel as a Deadlord. My soul is now woven more intricately into his flesh than ever.

"I must thank you," Grima said, turning to Lucina. "You and your friends have done very well. You've saved many Plegian lives, and the sacrifice offered is far greater than what was available to me before. Enough to restore my strength, expended in this tedious pursuit, and still fulfill its purpose here."

With that, Grima closed his eyes, and began to glow while lifting slowly into the air. "Stop him!" Lucina pleaded. Virion reacted first, sending a pair of arrows streaming at him, but the arrows bounced off harmlessly. Morgan followed with a casting of Valflame, but when the flames flickered away a few seconds later, Grima still appeared unscathed.

"Really now," Grima mocked. "I'm doing you a favor here. Don't you wish to see your friend again? While this Deadlord is quite capable, I'm afraid it's hardly a vessel befitting a god such as myself." As Grima spoke, the Deadlord began to glow. The Shepherds watched, entranced, as the ashen color fell away from the undead creature's skin, and the crimson glow in its eyes faded.

Robin retained his blank look for a moment longer. Then a light seemed to spark in his eyes, and he groaned. "Chrom?" he asked, surprised, for the Deadlord had previously been staring at the fallen prince. "What happened? Where… where am I?"

Before Chrom could answer, before anyone could even begin trying to explain the bizarre turn of events, Robin suddenly crumpled, clutching his forehead.

"What's yours is mine," Grima explained callously, seemingly oblivious to Robin's pain.

"Robin!" Cordelia cried, sprinting forward and grabbing her husband, miraculously returned from the dead. "Robin! Answer me!"

But Grima wasn't finished. "I'm sorry, Cordelia, but I'm afraid Robin has his own destiny to attend to right now. You know, it's quite fascinating. The blasphemous seed of light that you've ingrained into my heart is persistent. It's putting up quite a fight, even now, and with foolish Validar tipping Robin off beforehand, Robin might've even been able to resist me. Still, in repairing him, I've redoubled my hold upon my vessel. Even if this light cannot be fully extinguished, I will still reclaim what belongs to me."

"Stop!" Cordelia demanded, still clutching Robin tightly. "Leave him alone!"

"Get… get out!" Robin yelled, as he began to thrash wildly, his sudden flurry of motion pushing Cordelia away.

But as Grima had assured them, the tactician's struggles were futile, and a moment later, the thrashing stopped. Robin climbed to his feet and stood straight, his lips curling into a cruel grin, mirroring the man who still hovered, glowing, above him.

"R-Robin?" Cordelia asked uneasily. At the sound of her voice, he turned, and Cordelia shuddered. It was still his face, but it wasn't him any longer. There was something else lurking behind his dark eyes. A powerful, cursed presence.

Suddenly, bolts of violet-white lightning rained down upon them, sundering the roof of the Grimleal temple. Debris fell all around then, as the Shepherds searched for cover against the sudden onslaught. After several agonizingly long seconds, the storm stopped. When the dust cleared, a loud roar drew their attention to the skies above.

The colossal, skeletal effigy had come to life, and was hovering about them. The Shepherds were transfixed upon the dreadful sight, watching as dark mist swept along the skeleton, coalescing into flesh and scales.

The fell dragon roared, as its form solidified once more.

The new Grima, still standing still in the now ruined temple, spoke.

"I have awakened. Despair has returned!"

Though he still spoke in Robin's voice, there was now a powerful echo behind it. Then, with a smile, he snapped his fingers, and a rift appeared, whisking him away.

"The vessel belongs with the fell dragon," the otherworldly Grima explained casually. "As do I. Once again, I thank you for protecting the Plegian people so well."

As the words sunk in, the despairing Shepherds, save for Cordelia who could only stare blankly at the empty spot where her husband stood moments ago, turned their eyes to the sky once more. Sure enough, more of the dark mist was floating up to the sky, and as they watched, the mist began to coagulate. Before long, a second fell dragon had formed, and the otherworldly Grima, too, conjured a rift to carry him away.

A deafening cacophony rang out about, as the fell dragons roared simultaneously. They spread their wings, eclipsing the sun, eclipsing hope itself, and casting the world into the shadows of despair.

* * *

><p>"Grima… it's all over," Lucina whispered, shaking.<p>

"The terrible size of them… gods! The legends spoke true, we can't face either of them. Not in a straight battle – we'd be slaughtered!" Frederick gasped.

Still, the Shepherds' gazes remained affixed upon the dragons' awful splendor. Now that the Awakening and the feeding were complete, a chorus of measured howls followed the initial roars of triumph, as if both fell dragons were calling out to someone.

Or something. The remains of the thousands of Plegians that had given their lives, Chrom realized with a jolt. "We have to go!" Chrom cried, the spell broken. As he spoke, he began to sprint for the door they had come from, knowing that they had very little time before the ruined temple was flooded with risen. He turned back immediately though, when he noticed Cordelia still standing there, frozen in shock.

Hearing his cries, the Shepherds snapped back to attention, and fled along with him. Sumia and Severa rushed to help Chrom with Cordelia, and the three of them managed to drag her along with them. But immediately after crossing the threshold of the antechamber and entering the hallway once more, Morgan stopped. "Wait! Chrom! We still need the Fire Emblem!"

Chrom's eyes widened. It was true; the Fire Emblem and the Awakening as their last hope. A thin hope, but all they had left. But the Fire Emblem must have been laid among the sacrifices at the Dragon's Table. "Damn!" Chrom swore. "There has to be thousands of risen surrounding the Fire Emblem by now!"

"I'll try to retrieve it!" Morgan offered bravely, and she started to lead Catria back, but Severa stopped her.

"No way! You'd just be throwing your life away!" Severa protested.

"But… we need the Emblem," Morgan said helplessly.

"You mean _this_ Emblem, lass?" a gruff voice rang out from the antechamber. The Shepherds turned, and discovered the day was not out of surprises yet. "I've got the damn shield, now let's get the hell out of here, boy!" Basilio barked.

"B-Basilio!?" Chrom gasped, and indeed, it was the west-khan of Ferox, who had supposedly been killed in battle with Walhart. "How!?"

"We… we thought you were dead!" Lucina stammered.

It was then that they noticed Basilio wasn't alone. "Come on, guys! There's no time for this! Let's get out of here!" an unfamiliar man's voice rang out. Two men had been following Basilio. Both appeared to be quite young, nearing twenty years of age. The one who had spoken had medium-length sky-blue hair, neatly combed, and a clean and rather handsome face. He was dressed in a banded leather tunic and carried a broadsword easily. Beside him, the other man was nearly the complete opposite – his face was weathered and rugged, and his short, burnt-orange hair was short and messy, spiking up in several places. He wore dark robes, but they were fashioned similarly to those of the priests of Naga, and he carried no weapon, but instead held a staff nervously in both hands. There was a scar across his left eye as well, but thankfully his eye appeared to remain intact.

Lucina, Cynthia, Owain, and Severa gaped at the newcomers, but before they could speak, the orange-haired priest, interrupted them. "Can it! There's a horde of them damn risen behind us. We've got the damn Emblem, we can talk later, ya know?"

"Brady's right," Basilio agreed quickly. "Let's get going!"

Chrom nodded and led the way hastily through the temple. Cordelia had finally regained the presence of mind to follow, though she followed in complete silence. Like the antechamber, much of the temple was in ruins now, and the Shepherds tripped and stumbled around fallen debris at almost every turn. After only a couple minutes of navigating through the cluttered hallways, Chrom nearly ran straight into Khan Flavia.

Skipping the formalities, Flavia spoke up immediately. "Chrom! Please tell me that isn't what I think it is," Flavia begged, pointing up through the ruined roof, where one of the two fell dragons was still clearly visible.

"There's no time, woman! Run, damn it!" Basilio roared.

"Hah! Looks like you got the Emblem back at least," Flavia cheered. "Guess you're good for something, oaf." And without further ado, Flavia waved to the handful of soldiers that had followed her, and they, to, started fleeing through the temple.

A few minutes later, they escaped the temple, every one of them panting heavily from the exertion. Above, waves of magic still gushed forth from the fell dragons, and Flavia gasped upon realizing there were two of them. Chrom looked upon the sight with renewed horror, then noticed something odd. The two dragons were shaped much the same, but one looked to be a bit smaller than the other. Truthfully it mattered little – either dragon was large enough to level Ylisstol singlehandedly, but it was an oddity nonetheless.

"Keep running," Frederick insisted tiredly. "We have to be out of sight before he finishes his ritual." Chrom nodded his agreement, and led the weary party on, fleeing from the temple, the plateau, and finally disappearing into a nearby forest.

* * *

><p>Finally, hidden beneath the trees, some of the Shepherds gave in and collapsed from exhaustion. Chrom had half a mind to order the march to continue, but when he himself stopped, the pain he had suppressed in his arm wracked his body as the adrenaline faded, and he leaned against a tree gratefully, closing his eyes. Lissa immediately ran to his side, tending to his arm as best she could.<p>

"Basilio, how are you here?" Lucina asked, after everyone had had a moment to catch their breath. "And how did you end up with Inigo and Brady?"

Chrom opened his eyes, recognizing one of the names. "Inigo?" Chrom asked, turning to the two young men who had followed Basilio.

At the same time Chrom spoke, Olivia and Virion gasped in unison. "Inigo!?"

The man with the sky-blue hair looked quite abashed. "Umm… yeah. Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad." Virion and Olivia gaped at him. Now that they weren't running for their lives, Chrom noticed that there was indeed quite a strong resemblance. Inigo had inherited his father's hair and finely chiseled face, although there was a hint of delicateness that reminded Chrom of Olivia.

Basilio grinned. "I ran into the kids on accident. You probably don't recognize Brady here – I hear his mother's still pregnant with him back in Castle Ylisse!" Basilio finished with a laugh, as he gestured towards the rugged man with burnt orange hair.

"Maribelle's son…" Chrom breathed in a ton of wonderment. Gaius seemed startled. Unlike Inigo, Brady bore almost no resemblance to either of his parents, other than his father's hair color.

"You're… you're my kid?" Gaius asked, surprised. "Brady, was it?"

"Yeah. That's me," Brady said, embarrassed, rubbing a weathered hand coarsely through his hair. "I know I'm not the prettiest guy around and I don't look anything like you or Ma," he admitted sheepishly.

Gaius only laughed and rushed forward, pulling Brady into a tight hug. "Hah! You should've seen me before I met the Shepherds. Relax, Brady."

"So you believe me?" Brady asked, relief flooding his voice.

"Of course!" Gaius said. "Besides, I'd know that ring from anywhere. Did your mother tell you I made that for her myself?" Gaius said, pointing at a ring Brady hanging on a silver chain around Brady's neck.

"Oh! Aw, damn. I nearly forgot about it," Brady said, smiling. As he relaxed, his expression somehow grew quite a bit softer. "Thanks, Pop."

"It's good to see you, Brady," Lucina added. "You too, Inigo," she continued with a smile, as she turned to her other friend, who was still desperately avoiding his mother's gaze. It seemed he had inherited her shyness, as well. Then she turned to Basilio. "But Basilio, we all thought…"

"That I was worm food, back in Valm?" Basilio interrupted with a laugh. "It almost went that way, lass. But I scraped by, thanks to you."

"Thanks to me?" Lucina asked, bewildered. "I don't understand."

"We ran into Walhart, right as you said," Basilio explained. "We couldn't run, and I knew he was too strong for me. Normally, pride would've had me dead before I'd even thought twice about it, but since I knew just how strong the old bastard was, I played dead like a big, bald opossum. Walhart seemed surprised that I survived the first hit, I didn't think he thought it possible to survive a second."

"But why didn't you let us know?" Chrom asked.

Basilio's face turned grim. "It was Robin's idea, actually," he explained sadly, and as their minds turned to their tactician friend, the mood dampened once more. "I managed to get in touch with one of the scouts, and sent a note back to Robin, telling him what I'd done. He told the scout to keep it a secret and sent me a message in return. Robin said he thought something was fishy with that Excellus character, and was worried the Grimleal must be up to something. He said it could help to have someone on our side who everyone thought was dead."

"I ran into the oaf on the road," Flavia said, continuing the story. "He already found passage back here ahead of us. He was waiting along the road for us, since he knew we had to be making for the table."

"That's where I met the kids, too," Basilio added, pointing a thumb casually over his shoulder to Inigo and Brady, who were now sitting and talking nervously with their parents. "Found 'em fighting the Grimleal dogs. They're damn tough, too. When we got to the temple, the three of us knew you would be busy with Validar, so we went ahead to steal the Emblem back. It was lying on a massive altar with thousands of Grimleal, but only their guards seemed to even notice us. The guards went down quick and clean, but before we could grab your little shield, the Grimleal started dropping dead, then that crazy storm started. We grabbed the Emblem and hightailed it out of there."

"So, we have the Fire Emblem back now," Chrom said, looking at the shield, restored to its rightful place on his left arm. However, Lissa's magic could only do so much for his right arm, which was still shriveled and withered. With a jolt, Chrom realized he couldn't use his sword arm until he healed, if it ever did. He would have to learn to fight with his off-hand.

"That's our story," Flavia agreed. "So what happened with Validar? Why the hell were there two fell dragons hovering over the table?"

Chrom grimaced. "Robin is Grima," he said quietly, his heart heavy. Both of the khans gaped at him silently. "Grima came back from Lucina's timeline, too. He found Robin's body and revived it, as a risen. And then Grima resurrected him fully, under his control."

"So now there's two of him?" Flavia said, horrified. "And two fell dragons?"

Chrom nodded grimly. "But we have the Fire Emblem, so there's still hope. We need to perform the Awakening, before Grima finishes mustering his armies."

As he spoke, Chrom thought of the cruel fate that had befallen his best friend, and at that moment, he realized the depth of his hatred for the cruel demon who could call himself a god. At that moment, he didn't even care about the other implications of Grima's return – he only wished to absolutely destroy the monster who had taken Robin from them, and would dare to torment the poor, noble man even in death. Chrom looked around the small clearing, and his gaze came to a rest on Cordelia, who hadn't spoken a word since they had left the Dragon's Table, and leaned against a tree now, staring ahead blankly and lost in her tormented thoughts.

As he saw the pain in the broken woman's eyes, Chrom instinctively clenched his good fist tightly. "This isn't over, Grima," Chrom whispered vindictively.


	7. Chapter 5: The Coming Storm

**Chapter 5: The Coming Storm**

Morgan approached Khan Basilio's cart with some trepidation. The two newcomers, Inigo and Brady, were sitting with him and Severa. Morgan giggled as she noticed Inigo trying to flirt with her older sister. Virion's son appeared to have inherited his father's philandering behavior. Of course, Morgan didn't have any memories of either of them. But it seemed to Morgan like all of the children of the Shepherds' children had been fairly close friends, which meant they probably remembered her.

"Hello!" Morgan greeted cheerfully, as she climbed aboard the cart.

"Hey there!" Basilio greeted kindly. "You're Morgan, aren't you?"

Inigo and Brady, however, looked shocked to see her. "M-Morgan!?" Brady stammered. "The hell are you doing here!?"

"Huh!?" Morgan exclaimed, startled by the sudden hostility. "I'm… I was just saying hi," she said, a little sadly.

"Brady, Morgan came here from another timeline," Severa interrupted quickly, before Brady could say anything else. "She's our tactician now."

"Are you sure?" Inigo asked, sounding a little bit uneasy. Brady glared at Morgan suspiciously.

Basilio looked as perplexed as Morgan was. "Is something wrong?" Basilio asked worriedly.

Severa glared at the other two fiercely. "No, everything is fine. But my _sister_ didn't make it back in time with us, so they're surprised to see her," Severa said, emphasizing the word "sister". "By the way, Morgan lost most of her memories so you should probably introduce yourselves."

"Really? That's strange," Inigo said, looking at Morgan oddly. "Well, I'm Inigo," he introduced. "Hey, I know. We should grab a cup of tea together, sometime. Talking might stimulate your brain. Maybe jog your memory a bit?" Inigo invited.

"I suppose that's possible," Morgan replied obliviously, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. Severa groaned loudly.

"Really, Inigo? You find out a woman has amnesia and the first thing you do is hit on her?" Severa complained. Morgan blinked, startled.

Inigo smiled sheepishly. "It was just an idea!" Inigo said meekly, as Basilio guffawed loudly, thoroughly entertained. Morgan glanced at Brady, and noted that he had never once lowered his suspicious glare.

"Your name is Brady, right?" Morgan offered, trying to sound friendly. Brady only nodded abruptly and remained silent. "Well. Nice to meet you," Morgan said weakly. Brady only gave a loud huff and stormed off, muttering something about needing to see his father.

"Don't worry, lass," Basilio said comfortingly. "That kid can be a bit of grouch."

* * *

><p>"Milord, the scouts have returned," Frederick said, as he arrived at Chrom's side near the supply caravans. "I'm afraid the news is dire. Grima has dispatched his risen army from the Dragon's Table. They march upon Ylisstol."<p>

Chrom blanched. "How many?"

"Ten thousand, at least," Frederick answered, a little nervously. "Even now that we've regrouped with Khan Flavia's soldiers, we are terribly outnumbered."

"Damn," Chrom muttered grimly. "I had hoped to set off for Mount Prism immediately, but it's nearly two week's march from here."

"The risen need not rest," Frederick reminded. "Their march will be swift. They will likely descend upon Ylisstol before the week is at its end."

"We may be able to return straight to Ylisstol, but only just in time," Chrom thought aloud. "Is there any sign of Grima?"

"Neither fell dragon has been seen since we left the Dragon's Table," Frederick replied. "At least, not by our scouts."

"If we make for Mount Prism right now, the risen will overrun all of Ylisse. Our kingdom will lie in ruin, and Grima's armies will become far greater," Chrom noted. "We cannot abandon Ylisse. A small force must go on towards Mount Prism. The rest of us will stay with our armies and make our stand."

"If Grima returns, our stand will be short indeed, milord," Frederick warned. "But I cannot offer any better options, I'm afraid."

The two men stood in silence, considering their options.

"Uncle Chrom!" Owain hailed, as he approached them, wearing a similar expression of deep contemplation.

"Yes, Owain?" Chrom asked politely.

Owain looked at the carts. "Do we have any spare parchment?" Owain asked.

"We do," Frederick confirmed. "What do you need it for? It isn't for your scripted stage acting, is it?" Frederick asked, chuckling. Owain jumped, having only then noticed his father standing nearby.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Father!" Owain greeted. "No, I don't script anything. My words always come from the heart! The parchment is for a gift for mother."

"What does Lissa need a bunch of parchment for?" Chrom asked curiously. "Never mind, I suppose it doesn't matter." Chrom lifted a case of parchment rolls. "Here," Chrom said, tossing the container to his nephew, who thanked him quickly before hurrying off.

"Sometimes I worry about that boy," Frederick said, watching as Owain left. "It's really quite strange. According to him, he's nearly the same age as Lissa. He hasn't even been born yet in our timeline. But still, I find myself seeing him as, well, a child."

Chrom grinned. "I think I'm the same way with Lucina and Cynthia." But his expression darkened, as his thoughts returned to their dire situation. Chrom had try to spar that morning briefly, wielding Falchion in his left hand, and quickly discovered that he couldn't even fight half as effectively. His arm still showed no signs of healing any time soon. Hope may persist, but the future still looked grim.

* * *

><p>"Come on, Morgan. What's bothering you?" Severa asked, slightly exasperated. Morgan had been strangely quiet ever since Brady left. They talked with Basilio and Inigo for some time, but after a while, Morgan excused herself, saying only that she felt like taking a walk. Despite Morgan's generally cheerful demeanor, Severa knew that her sister was still fixated on her lost memories, so Severa had quickly followed.<p>

Severa expected Morgan to deny it, or to deflect her question, but Morgan's response shocked her. "Severa, how did I die?" Morgan questioned, strangely calm.

"Where did that come from?" Severa said, shocked, and suddenly a bit tense. "I think I would've noticed if you were dead. The whole glowing red eyes thing would've given it away if you were a risen."

"You know that's not what I mean," Morgan said with a deep sigh. "I know I didn't come back in time with you and Lucina and the others. There had to be a reason, right? Owain, Inigo, and Brady all looked at me as if I were a ghost. You don't need to hide it anymore."

Severa cringed. Of course her perceptive little sister would have suspected. Their reactions to seeing Morgan hadn't been particularly subtle, and Robin, too, had told Severa that he already suspected the sinister fate that befell Morgan, after only a brief conversation with Lucina and Cynthia. "I'm sorry," Severa apologized distantly.

"How did it happen?" Morgan demanded insistently. "I need to know, Severa. I… I don't want it to happen again. I know everything seems to be going wrong lately, but… I want to stay with you. With Mother. What did I do wrong?"

"Why do you think you did anything wrong?" Severa blurted. "It's a war, stupid. Things go wrong even if it's not our fault."

Morgan smiled sadly. "I saw the suspicious way Brady was looking at me. Inigo and Owain both looked scared of me, at first, too."

Severa looked away, struggling with her thoughts and avoiding her sister's gaze. But Morgan continued to stand there, watching her patiently, and finally, Severa could not stand the silence any longer. "You were our tactician when we were running from Grima," Severa finally admitted. "We did manage to reclaim the Fire Emblem, but Grima had scattered the stones. We were trying to retrieve them, but one of them had been cast into the sea. It was lost, likely forever, and with it, any chance of performing the Awakening."

"So that's why you came back in time," Morgan said. "There was no hope left in that world."

Severa nodded. "We did manage to retrieve some of the stones, and with them, Naga had the strength to send us back in time. So we went to Mount Prism, but the risen were already there. Waiting for us. Like always, you came up with a plan to hold the risen away from Naga's chamber for the ritual. But Grima himself was there, and it was the first and last time any of your plans went totally wrong," Severa finished sadly.

"So that's why," Morgan said thoughtfully. "I guess… I wasn't that good of a tactician, after all. Did anyone else die because of me?"

"Don't say that!" Severa protested. "You did everything you could. No one could have expected anything more. None of us could have known that Grima had laid a trap for us there."

"But wait… aren't we going to Mount Prism now? With Chrom, to perform the Awakening? The same trap could be waiting for us!" Morgan said, her thoughts returning to their current predicament.

"If it is, then we'll be ready for it this time," Chrom said, and Severa and Morgan both turned to him, startled. "Sorry for eavesdropping," Chrom said, smiling gently. "But Morgan, you can't blame yourself if everything doesn't go exactly to plan. That's how war is. Sometimes, things aren't what you expect them to be."

"Father told me that, too," Morgan admitted. "Oh! Uncle Chrom, are we headed to Mount Prism now?"

Chrom's smile widened at the title Morgan had laid upon him. Of course, he and Robin hadn't been related. But they were as close as brothers, practically, and Sumia and Cordelia were as good as sisters, having grown up in the castle together since childhood. Morgan addressed them the same way back in Ocean's Gate too, but at the time he had been too distracted to think about it. Now, it was a warm reminder of the bonds they all shared. "That's what I came to talk to you about, Morgan. The risen are marching upon Ylisstol and we will have to rally and defend the capital. Otherwise, even if we perform the Awakening, our world will be populated entirely by risen. I was thinking, I should lead a small team east, to Mount Prism, and perform the ritual, while the others gather what forces we can in Ylisstol."

Morgan eyed Chrom's right arm nervously. "Uncle Chrom, your arm hasn't healed yet," she said.

Chrom nodded, not disagreeing with her assessment. "It may never heal," he said somberly. "I'm training every day, though. I don't have a choice – we must awaken Falchion and use it against Grima."

"We do have a choice," Morgan said adamantly, and both Chrom and Severa looked at her in surprise. "Lucina wields Falchion too, doesn't she? Even if it's from a different timeline, it's the same blade."

"I don't think you can perform the Awakening on a Falchion of a different time here," Chrom protested hesitantly.

"Can you switch, then?" Morgan asked. Chrom frowned. In truth, the blades were one and the same, and he had only made up that excuse to mask his true concern. He had read more about the legendary Awakening ritual. The wielder of Falchion had to prove his conviction by braving Naga's fire. Success was rewarded with the power of the divine dragon, channeled through the blade of the first exalt. Failure left the candidate dead.

"I would sooner not demand it of Lucina," Chrom admitted. "The risk is too great."

Severa groaned. "Are you crazy, Chrom!? Lucina would have attempted the Awakening herself in our timeline. Look at everything she's been through – she is just as determined to see this through as you are."

Chrom frowned and said nothing. "Uncle Chrom, please," Morgan pleaded. "Even an awakened Falchion cannot save us if its wielder cannot use it effectively."

"You can't ask me to abandon this war now," Chrom said, suddenly defensive.

"I'm not," Morgan assured. "Actually, that's something I read about recently. My father left me a bunch of his old texts. One of them was the legend of the Radiant Hero, Ike. I was thinking it might help you."

Chrom looked at her skeptically. He knew the legend of the Radiant Hero, of course. It was a well-known tale of a mercenary from the continent of Tellius, who found himself embroiled in multiple wars, culminating in a battle with their own goddess. "Did Ike suffer a terrible injury, too? The legends never spoke of it."

"Not Ike, but his father, Greil," Morgan corrected. "Greil was once a swordsman, and reputedly the finest warrior in Tellius. According to the legend, Greil willingly crippled his own arm after an unfortunate incident, where a brush with unknown magic left him out of control. Though it hampered his ability to use a sword, he soon learned to use an axe instead. Much of his strength remained, and using an axe doesn't always require the same precision. He was supposed to be quite an impressive warrior, still, even if he didn't quite live up to his former reputation."

"So… you're saying I should try to use an axe instead?" Chrom asked, dumbfounded. He had never even considered switching a weapon. But Morgan's theory held potential – Vaike and Basilio were both impressive warriors, relying on raw strength alone rather than dexterity and precision. Basilio had even bested Lon'qu through that strength. Chrom's left arm might not be as strong as his right arm was, but it would be easier to build upon what strength he had, than relearn all the careful motions of swordplay.

"It's possible," Morgan said noncommittally. "I can't say for sure. But I saw you sparring with Frederick, you can't use Falchion right now. Not in your current state."

"So, Chrom starts learning to use an axe, and remains in Ylisstol. We'll take Lucina down to Mount Prism. You can switch Falchions, just in case," Severa suggested.

"I should be there with you," Chrom argued, shaking his head. "Even if Lucina performs the ritual in my place."

"You need to be in Ylisstol," Morgan reminded. "You're still the prince. If anyone can rally our people together, it's you."

Chrom sighed. He didn't like the plan very much, but the reasoning was sound. "Who's going to Mount Prism, then?"

"Our Pegasus knights," Morgan replied instantly. "Minerva is in no shape for a long distance flight, but the Pegasus knights will travel much faster than anyone else. We will even be able to reach Mount Prism before you reach Ylisstol. That way, if Grima himself joins the battle in Ylisstol, you need only hold him off long enough for us to return with the awakened Falchion."

"That would leave us with only eight people, at most," Severa reminded. "Grima knows we're headed to Mount Prism – he will have risen waiting for us, at least. Unless you want to try to bring some of the Ylissean scouts and messengers."

Morgan shook her head. "We will just have to be careful. I think they will need the messengers in Ylisstol, too, and the scouts and messengers aren't trained for battle. Anyone riding with them could easily get stranded if something goes wrong."

"Sounds like you've got it all worked out already," Chrom said approvingly.

"Really?" Morgan said, with a faint smile. "I can't help but think about the hundreds of ways this could go wrong."

"You really are your father's little girl," Chrom said, laughing. "Robin was always the greatest critic of his own plans. Trust me, it's fine, Morgan. Let the others know and maybe you can set off for Mount Prism tonight."

* * *

><p>Owain was marching along the Shepherd's procession, as if searching for someone, an intense look upon his face. The parchment he had requested from Chrom was clutched tightly in his hands, now covered in scribbles. Owain had only recently discovered a terrible injustice that had to be remedied.<p>

"Ah! There you are," Owain said, as he spotted his mother.

"Were you looking for me, honey?" Lissa asked kindly, smiling at her son. Even though he was almost the same age she was, she had stepped into her role as a mother with enthusiasm.

"Here, have a look at these," Owain said, proudly presenting her with the parchment.

"Is this… a list?" Lissa said, as began to read curiously. "Gryphon's Bane Edge. Fell Ballista. Staff of Deep Hurting. Wow, this goes on for twenty pages!"

"Twenty-six," Owain corrected, smiling eagerly. "And if you don't find one you like, I can always whip up more."

"Find one I like for what?" Lissa asked, confused.

"For your weapon!" Owain proclaimed happily, gesturing at the healing staff that Lissa carried. "Your weapon needs a name, Mom!"

Lissa looked flabbergasted. "Don't you think these are, I don't know, a little overblown? For a run-of-the-mill weapon?"

"There's nothing run-of-the-mill about your weapon!" Owain protested loudly. "Any weapon in your hands deserves a name no less grand!"

"It's a staff, Owain," Lissa reminded. "It's for healing others, not vanquishing darkness or anything crazy like that. I don't think it needs a fancy name."

"But without a name, it will forever just remain some mundane object!" Owain continued to argue. "A mere tool! How can I rely on it to keep you safe in the heat of battle?"

"Aww!" Lissa gushed, touched by his tone of concern. "Oh Owain, you sweet boy!" Lissa rushed over and embraced her son tightly, kissing him on the cheek. "You were just worried about me, weren't you? You are just the sweetest son in the world! Don't worry, Owain. I know I'll be perfectly safe with you here protecting me."

Owain only gasped and sputtered for air.

"Uh… did I come at a bad time?" Morgan asked hesitantly, as she joined them.

"Nope!" Lissa said cheerily, not minding the interruption. "Did you need something, Morgan?"

"Yep. I was hoping Owain would be willing to accompany us to Mount Prism," Morgan said sheepishly. "We're going to try to fly Lucina there to perform the ritual as quickly as possible, while everyone else returns to Ylisstol."

"Lucina?" Lissa asked, surprised. "Did you finally convince Chrom he wasn't going to be able to use Falchion for a while?"

"What!?" Owain wailed. "How can a fellow scion of the great hero be without his own legendary weapon!?"

"I'm sure any weapon Uncle Chrom uses will become just as legendary," Morgan said consolingly. "Anyways, since we're flying to Mount Prism, we'll only be able to bring four people with us. We have to move pretty quickly, so I thought you'd be a good choice, Owain."

"Hah! How could I refuse such a heartfelt request from my destined partner?" Owain boasted. "O fated companion, I shall stand by your side wherever the winds of time may be inclined to carry you!"

"You are too adorable, Owain," Lissa commented, giggling. Morgan joined her in her laughter, as Owain sputtered helplessly and indignantly.

* * *

><p>Lucina had readily agreed to their new plan. Morgan was apologetic at first, knowing that her plan would place Lucina's life in jeopardy. But Lucina put a quick end to those doubts. "I meant to perform the ritual myself, before we fled through time," Lucina reminded. "And I would gladly perform it in my father's place." After a quick test, it seemed like Lucina could indeed wield the Falchion of this timeline, as the two blades were identical. Falchion was quite choosy with its wielder, and not even all those of the exalted bloodline could wield the legendary weapon to its full effectiveness. Still, the weapon split the log that Lucina tested it against cleanly in two, and there was no reason to risk any further complications. She exchanged swords with her father before joining the others that were setting off for Mount Prism.<p>

Severa had insisted on going with them and remaining with her mother and sister. The last to join their party was Lady Tiki, who, as Naga's voice, could potentially provide valuable insight during their quest. Within an hour, the supplies had been secured, and Sumia, Cordelia, Cynthia, and Morgan were ready to take off, with Lucina, Tiki, Owain, and Severa riding behind them respectively.

"We'll return to Ylisstol as soon as possible," Morgan promised Chrom.

"With Falchion awakened," Lucina agreed. "Father… be careful."

"I will," Chrom said with a nod. "Ylisstol shall not falter. Not under my watch."

With a last, confident nod, Morgan signaled to the others and the four Pegasi soared up into the clear afternoon sky, flying to the east. The peaceful weather seemed almost a mockery of their desperate situation. The calm before the storm, as some would have called it. But at least it meant their own journey would be swift and unhindered.

"We must hasten our own march," Chrom said, his eyes still on the distant Pegasi. He knew it was for the best, but his wife and both of their daughters were now disappearing into the horizon. Though he trusted in them with all his heart, he couldn't help but fear that they may not all reunite again. Defeat was a possibly all too real.

"Yes, milord," Frederick, standing beside him, agreed. "If the risen arrive before we do, we will not stand a chance. We must hurry back to Ylisstol."

"We should also send our messengers ahead," Chrom suggested. "They can warn the other provinces. I hate to ask it of them, but our chances will be greater if they abandon their homes and flee to Ylisstol and await our return, so that we might make our stand together."

"That would be wise," Frederick said, nodding. "I will dispatch the Pegasus riders that remain available. I shall also send one ahead to Ylisstol. Perhaps Lady Maribelle can begin preparations in Ylisstol." The two men turned, Frederick heading towards the main column of their army where the messengers remained, and Chrom seeking out the other Shepherds, to share their current plan.

* * *

><p>Desperation was the wind in their sails, as the Shepherd and their weary army sped towards the capital. Two days out, they were joined by a pair of local dukes and their people, who upon receiving Frederick's messengers, had immediately gathered their people and were making their way to Ylisstol. The majority of the able-bodied men had joined the Ylissean armies earlier that year in their voyage to Valm, but many of the fearful farmers, blacksmiths, and laborers carried weapons and were ready to join their prince as he made his stand against the fell dragon. Some of the other messengers returned, with the news that the other dukes and lords they had managed to reach were following suit, and streaming towards the capital as well.<p>

They encountered some risen as they travelled, but not in any significant number. Grima's reach was long, but his magic dwindled with distance, and for the most part, the dead laid to rest in the cemeteries they passed en route to Ylisstol remained at peace.

One day from the capital, they encountered yet another group of beleaguered villagers, fleeing towards the heart of Ylisse, including a face familiar to one of the Shepherds.

"Pardon me, milord," a middle-aged female farmer said, as she approached Chrom. "I don't know if you remember, but your Shepherds saved our village once. A little town called Farfort?"

Though the woman looked vaguely familiar, Chrom couldn't place her or the village's name off the top of his head. "That may be," Chrom said noncommittally. "I wish only that we could do the same once more. I am sorry to ask you to abandon your homes."

"No apologies are necessary, milord!" the woman said quickly. "All of Ylisse would stand by her prince, and his honor, valor, and strength!"

"It is very kind of you to say so," Chrom said, feeling slightly abashed. He didn't feel like he deserved any of that praise, especially after just sending his daughter to face Naga's flames in his place.

"The entire kingdom knows of your struggles," the woman reassured. "But… I'm afraid I have a question for you, milord. I have a son, you see, who once joined the Shepherds." Suddenly, Chrom remembered the woman.

"You're Donnel's mother, aren't you?" Chrom asked. The woman's eyes lit up with a mixture of hope and fear. "Your son remains well," Chrom quickly assured. But before he could offer to fetch Donnel, a startled cry of recognition interrupted him.

"Ma!" Donnel cried as he hastened to her side. Chrom smiled and silently departed, giving the boy some space. His mother gasped when she saw him, for Donnel had grown significantly since he had left their village years ago. Though he still wore a tin pot on his head in deference to his humble beginnings, between the training and the battles, he had grown far stronger. His old peasant clothing had long since been replaced by a fine leather brigandine, and he carried a fine silver sword now instead of the old, broken pitchfork he had left town with, or the plain iron lance he used initially. But it was his eyes that had changed most, for Donnel had left a farmhand, his eyes full of youthful luster and wonderment. Though he was still barely over two decades old, the weary yet confident eyes of a veteran soldier hinted at the trials he had faced.

"Oh, Donny, thank goodness you're safe!" his mother cried, running forward and holding him tightly. "You've been so strong, Donny," she murmured. "I was worried near to death, but you've been so brave."

"It's not over, Ma," Donnel answered quietly. "I guess you were right after all. There was too much to do, more than I could handle."

"Hush now!" his mother berated. "I can see for myself, Donny. You've grown so much. You've given it your all and no one could ask anything more of you. And you haven't given up, because there's still more you can do. I know it!"

Donnel laughed tearfully. "Aw, Ma… I ain't quitting until this is over! And when it is, we'll go home together. I promise!"

* * *

><p>As a result of all of their encounters on the road, the Shepherd's procession had grown to nearly five thousand. The vast majority were civilians, with many women and children, though. Chrom estimated that, of their number, perhaps two thousand would be able to fight in the coming battle.<p>

Stopping for the night proved to be difficult. Though there were some that wanted to press on, the scouts reported that the risen still remained at least two days behind them, even marching through the night. So when the sun set, the soldiers and the refugees spread their camp far and wide, encompassing a rather large piece of woodlands. That made it unfortunately difficult for the Shepherds to find privacy beyond their tents.

Still, Inigo managed to find a quiet clearing in the woods. Much like his mother and father, he preferred to practice his routines in private. Following in his mother's footsteps, his dancing and his swordplay were one and the same. The same graceful steps and pirouettes that composed his routine were his footwork in battle, and the sword he carried as a prop was also his weapon of choice, a lethal weapon that had recently been put to good use against Grimleal and risen alike.

He hummed quietly as he attempted a particularly complicated and daring routine, twirling his sword neatly as he gracefully shuffled back and forth, maintaining his perfect balance throughout. He had been practicing this particular dance for weeks, though he nearly always faltered in his steps at some point. This time, though, his movements were clean and orderly, and he carried out the dance to perfection.

"Huh," Inigo said quietly, temporarily overwhelmed by the accomplishment. Though he had dreamed of completing this dance successfully for years, he never dreamed it would happen at such a time, with the tension of imminent war hanging heavily over him. "Those were some damn fine moves, if I do say so myself." That is when he realized he wasn't as alone as he thought.

"Yes, it was a brilliant performance!" Olivia cheered from nearby. Inigo gasped and turned, tripping and nearly falling over. "Though your spins still lack the strength of your convictions. Stop holding back! Extend your focus through the very tips of your fingers. That will help through those tricky transition moves."

"All right, where were you hiding today, Mother?" Inigo asked, annoyed. Ever since they met and Olivia learned of his dream of becoming a dancer, Olivia had been shadowing him with less-than-perfect stealth on his sojourns away from the campsite. Inigo was hoping to keep this routine secret until it had been perfected, and was now in a habit of checking around thoroughly before beginning his practice, but to his surprise, Olivia had been nowhere in sight this evening.

"Nowhere!" Olivia said, with sheepish innocence. "This time I really did just happen to pass by – I swear! Though I thank the gods for the chance to finally see you dance. The latter half was a bit of a departure, but I recognize the routine. It's my favorite." A thought occurred to her. "Wait, did I teach you that in the future?"

Inigo sighed as he strolled over to a nearby tree and leaned against it. "Yes," he admitted. "It was the last dance you taught me. That's why the second half is different. You didn't have enough time to teach me the whole routine. I've been working so hard to finish it myself, to show you, you know. I wanted to surprise you."

Olivia looked quite abashed. "Oh! I'm so sorry," she said, shrinking away slightly.

"Don't apologize," Inigo said, a distant look in his eyes. "To tell you the truth, I really wanted to hear your thoughts. I always used to practice beside your grave. I'd try to imagine what you'd say as you watched me." Inigo's shining black eyes moistened, as the bittersweet memories flooded his mind.

Olivia, seeing that her son was close to tears, interrupted his reverie. "Ah! Don't cry, Inigo. It's all right! The me in the future might have left, but I swear, this me is here to stay. Once this war is over, we can dance together, or see the world, or anything!"

Inigo chuckled, as he wiped away his tears. "Thanks, Mom. Do you think you could teach me the real second half of that routine sometime?"

"Of course!" Olivia promised. Then she adopted a sympathetic look. "All that carefree flirting… it's just an act, isn't it?" she asked.

Inigo grinned. "Yeah, I suppose. You've been in battle yourself. You know what it's like. Fighting every day, brush after brush with death, and wondering whether each dance will be your last. But with everyone looking to you to be strong, you don't have a choice, do you?"

Olivia giggled reluctantly. "You really are just like your father, aren't you? He, too, spent so long hiding his own pain, flirting with women and playing a convincing fool."

* * *

><p>The set out early the next morning, the Shepherds eager to be home at last. As it had been after Emmeryn's death, a gloom hung over the city. By now, rumors of Grima's return had spread across the continent. Though the Shepherds were still plagued by their failure in stopping Grima's resurrection, it was clear the people did not blame them. It was quite the opposite, with many resting their final hopes upon the already heavily burdened Shepherds, cheering as they made their way towards the castle.<p>

Maribelle was waiting for them at the castle steps, along with her father, Duke Themis. Her belly was slightly swollen, as she was now several months along in her pregnancy. Her expression was plagued by confusion and worry, but when she saw Chrom and Gaius approaching at the front of the procession, her eyes lit up and she immediately started rushing towards them. Not wanting his wife to overexert herself in her state, Gaius held up a hand quickly, gesturing for her to stop while he raced up the stairs to her, finally wrapping her in a gentle hug at the top of the stairs.

"Good to see you, Gaius," Duke Themis said regally, smiling, albeit with a hint of nervousness. But Gaius did not immediately answer him.

"Are you alright?" Gaius asked Maribelle quietly. Maribelle laughed as tears of joy and relief slid down her face.

"Am _I_ alright? Of course I am, Gaius. I wasn't the one fighting a war across the sea," Maribelle reminded.

"Hello, Maribelle," Chrom greeted, as he made it up the stairs, the other Shepherds following close behind. Lissa, too, ran forward and gave Maribelle a great hug.

But Maribelle didn't respond to Chrom's greeting, nor did she reply to Lissa aside from automatically returning the girl's embrace. Instead, her gaze swept along the Shepherds as they made their way up the stairs and into the castle, many of them waving as they passed.

"Chrom… is it true? Is Robin really gone?" Maribelle said hesitantly. The messenger had told them as much, but Maribelle had hoped so desperately for it to have been a mistake.

Chrom, Gaius, and Lissa all flinched. "It's true," Chrom finally said, trying desperately to keep his voice dispassionate. "But that's not the worst of it," he said with a grimace, as Maribelle buried her face into Gaius's shoulder.

"Do we really need to talk about it right now, Blue?" Gaius said urgently, not wanting to upset his distraught wife any further. "Let's just get settled down first."

"Of course," Chrom agreed readily. Anything to postpone the inevitable.

"Come on, relax, Twinkles," Gaius said tenderly, holding Maribelle tightly. He gingerly lifted a pouch from one of his many pockets. It contained the last of the dried Valmese fruit that Severa had given him back on the ship, which he had saved for her. "Here, try this," he said as he offered her the bag.

Curious, Maribelle took the offered bag and opened it. She began to laugh as she saw the sugar-dusted contents. "Oh Gaius, you haven't change at all, have you?" she said, though her smile was a bit strained, seeing through his attempt to cheer her up easily enough. Still, it was a touching gesture.

"Think of the baby," Gaius said with a roguish grin. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

Maribelle blinked, surprised. "You think it will be a boy?"

Gaius subtly led her gaze to the young man standing behind her, who had lingered behind after the others had ventured into the castle. Maribelle hesitantly complied, and was thoroughly confused by the boy's appearance and bashful expression. But then she remembered Lucina, and soon realized who the boy must be.

"Maribelle, this is Brady," Gaius introduced. "I'll give you two a chance to catch up, alright? Brady, help your mother inside when you're finished. I'm going to go grab a bite to eat. We've been out of sugar and honey for weeks now." And with that, Gaius strolled into the castle, smiling.


	8. Chapter 6: The Awakening

**Chapter 6: The Awakening**

Astride their Pegasi, what would have been a winding two-week trek looked to be only a three day flight for Lucina and her escort. Comfortably sailing through the skies, hundreds of feet off the ground, Morgan thought this journey to be oddly therapeutic. Her sister, riding behind her, had been quite alarmed at first when Morgan rested her distracted gaze upon the verdant forests, peaceful meadows, and shimmering lakes that passed below them. But Catria was well-accustomed to her rider's penchant towards daydreaming, and obediently remained on course. Morgan couldn't help herself, despite Severa's protests; somehow, the way the distance made everything seem so small helped her leave her own fears and doubts behind.

When they camped for the night, Morgan directed them to a small, secluded hill, with a clear view of the surrounding meadows for at least half a mile in every direction. "Are you sure we want to be out in the open?" Lucina asked uneasily.

"Positive," Morgan replied lightly. "Hiding won't do us any good – Grima knows where we are headed, and if he can stop us himself, he'll just wait for us at Mount Prism. And if it's the risen who try to stop us, better that we see them coming so we can flee."

"I suppose you're right," Lucina agreed nervously. "But what if Grima doesn't realize we're heading straight to Mount Prism? He might think we're heading towards Ylisstol with the rest of the Shepherds. If the risen happen upon us that could tip him off."

"It's possible," Morgan conceded. "But they could just as easily find us in a forest or cave. At least here, we know they aren't anywhere near. In fact, if we try to skulk around, we might just run straight into them. At this this way, we will see them coming."

Partially to alleviate Lucina's fears, and partially out of prudence, Morgan insisted upon taking turns keeping watch throughout the night. Owain had initially suggested that the passengers be the ones keeping a lookout, as they could sleep during the ride, but Morgan insisted upon taking a watch too. They took shifts in pairs, as they all knew how easy it was to fall asleep as a lone sentry. Idle conversation eased the fatigue significantly.

* * *

><p>"You aren't still worried about your memories, are you?" Severa asked, as she noted Morgan staring across the meadow contemplatively.<p>

"Huh?" Morgan said, startled from her thoughts. "Oh! No… I was thinking about Father. Where do you think he is?"

Severa cringed. "He's probably riding on the fell dragon's back," she reminded darkly.

"I mean, the real him," Morgan clarified. Severa looked at her blankly. "Do you really believe that's all father ever was? Grima?"

"That's what he is now, isn't it?" Severa asked unhappily.

"I don't know," Morgan admitted. "But I don't think he can just… become Grima. And I don't think that's what he was all along. I think some part of him is the father we knew, the man who would've done anything to protect us from the fell dragon."

"I guess you're right," Severa agreed softly. "But that part's gone now, isn't it? After he stupidly killed himself," she added, in a heated tone.

"Do you think he's trapped in Grima still?" Morgan asked. "Or do you think he's free now? Maybe he's looking after us from somewhere, wishing he could be here with us."

Severa, too, let her mind wander as she stared aimlessly into the night. She hadn't thought about it before, and had no answer for Morgan. But she hoped her father was free. The idea of having your spirit trapped within the fell dragon, watching helplessly as it destroyed the world you willingly died to protect, was heartbreaking.

* * *

><p>Unlike Morgan and Severa from earlier in the night, Sumia's gaze remained fixated in the direction of Ylisstol. She knew it would likely be days before Chrom arrived, but the very next day, they would reach home.<p>

Reach it and fly right by it. They had discussed it briefly, and everyone knew that it would be folly to loiter in Castle Ylisse. Even Lucina agreed it may prove difficult to leave if they dropped by, so they unanimously agreed to continue past. But knowing it was the right decision did not make it any easier for Sumia. Ylisstol had been her home for all her life. She was the queen, now, and these were her people. The war they fought in Valm, and the war they were fighting now, were for the people waiting in that city.

Her baby was in that city. Seeing the girl's future self, the strong and determined young woman keeping watch beside her, had only renewed her desire to see the baby again. Sumia's thoughts then turned to Severa, and she felt an acute ache in her heart. Baby Severa also remained in Ylisstol, but unlike baby Lucina, would never see her father again.

"Mother, are you sure you don't want to stop by Ylisstol?" Lucina asked gently, as she followed her mother's gaze and realized what her mother must have been thinking about.

"I'm sure, Lucina," Sumia replied calmly, despite the tumult of emotions she felt.

"I could probably fly Caeda," Lucina suggested.

Sumia shook her head gently. "I'm sure you could, but I want to be there for you, Lucina. I may have a child waiting for me in Castle Ylisse, but you and Cynthia are my children, too, and you need me more."

Lucina was touched, but remained concern. "I'm worried about father, too," Lucina admitted. "Robin made me promise I'd look after Father before… before he died. And now all three of us have left him to return to Ylisstol, and possibly face Grima's army, alone."

"He's not alone," Sumia reassured. "The rest of the Shepherds are standing beside him, and both khans from Feroxi, and thousands of our people."

Lucina still wavered doubtfully, her own gaze resting on the road behind, in the direction where her father was undoubtedly restlessly worrying about them. "I still can't help but feel we've abandoned him," Lucina said sadly.

"Well, then we should hurry to Mount Prism and hurry back, right?" Sumia said kindly. "We might even be able to make it back before the risen come. If Grima comes with them, we can put an end to all of this then and there."

"Right," Lucina said, determination seeping into her voice once more. Deep down though, she wondered whether it could really be so easy. She had made that mistake before, when she had saved Exalt Emmeryn the first time.

One step at a time. Perform the Awakening. Defeat the risen. Slay Grima.

* * *

><p>Their little campsite awakened at the break of dawn the next day, and within an hour, they had had breakfast and cleared the campsite away. There had been no sign of risen during the night, to their collective relief. The weather remained clear, and their flight remained comfortable.<p>

They passed Ylisstol just past midday with mixed feelings. Sumia, Cynthia, Lucina, and Owain all looked at it with a sense of longing. Morgan was simply curious – before her was the home of her family, and the home of all of her friends. She supposed it was once her home too, but of course she had no memories of it. Tiki had little interest vested in Ylisstol, but did close her eyes, praying for the safety of those within the capital and those streaming into it, fleeing the approaching armies of despair.

Severa, however, was fixated on her mother. Cordelia seemed oddly determined to avert her gaze, instead staring straight ahead. In fact, ever since straight after the events at the Dragon's Table, Cordelia had been surprisingly calm and stable. She hardly looked the part of a grieving widow any longer. It was as if her emotions had run dry, but Severa knew better, having hid her own emotions for so long. Her mother was forcing herself to remain dispassionate, in fear of her own feelings.

The tension eased some time later, as Ylisstol faded out of sight in the distance. They did spot Ylisseans making their way west toward the capital for some time, but by late afternoon, the villages they passed looked to be unaware of Grima's return, as they simply went about their daily lives. They were too far east, and word had not reached them quite yet, beyond maybe an occasional rumor or two.

Then, they encountered risen for the first time on their journey. Thankfully, Cynthia spotted them immediately and warned the others, and they kept their distance, hoping to avoid pursuit. By a rather cruel twist of fate, the risen were stationed around Breakneck Pass, including a handful of undead wyverns and their riders, a sadistic reminder of times past to the two members of their company that had been in a battle there before.

As dusk arrived, they found that they were ahead of schedule. They had reached the intended campsite, with at least an hour or two of light remaining. So they pushed onwards, over the more mountainous terrain. They ended up stopping an hour later than they anticipated, as they crossed the mountain range and settled near a lake in the foothills. Like the first night, Morgan chose a secluded spot with decent visibility of the surrounding area.

The next morning, the weather took a turn for the worst. Overcast skies and a light drizzle greeted them as they awoke, but even with visibility impaired, they set off without complaint, making only a slightly slower pace. Mount Prism was located just off the coast, extending from the sea like a giant monolith, distantly seen from the beach. They arrived at the beach without incident by mid-afternoon, and landed to take a quick break before approaching the island.

"I can feel Naga's power, even from here," Tiki observed. The others looked at her curiously. "Once we find Naga's chamber, her power should protect us. And the shadow of Grima remains far away," Tiki clarified, and, save for Cordelia, the others all looked relieved. As always, Cordelia simply nodded and looked towards their destination, her face devoid of any signs of emotion.

They rested for half an hour, stretching their legs and eating a quick meal before setting off again. There were many boats behind, left for pilgrims visiting the sacred site, but with the Pegasi they had no need for sea vessels. But when they reached the island, they knew their uneventful journey was at its end.

"Careful!" Tiki warned loudly, as they neared the island. "We must prepare for battle! Grima has sent servants here! I can sense it. They'll be on us soon!"

Heeding Tiki's warning, Morgan directed a slow and careful approach, keeping a careful eye on the seemingly calm forests below. A glint of steel betrayed the ambush, and Morgan immediately led the Pegasus knights higher. "Soldiers in the forest below," she explained. "Probably risen."

"How could the risen infiltrate this sacred place?" Lucina said, scandalized. "Do they threaten Naga's power?" she added, fearing the worst.

Tiki hesitated. "I know not. The risen are bound by Grima's essence. Naga's power remains intact, but the ritual may be disrupted by the presence of the fell dragon's minions."

"So we'll have to destroy them," Morgan decided, although the prospect was daunting. Like Naga's Cradle, Mount Prism was the picture of natural life, covered in lush forests and sparking clear rivers. The numerous trees concealed the risen quite well.

None of them were particularly comfortable with the plan, but they had little alternative. Together, they descended towards the side of a lake, hoping for a clear region to begin their hunt.

The roar of wyverns announced the arrival of their first foes, as a dozen wyvern riders emerged from the forests. The wyverns and their riders, armed with axes, both showed the discolored skin and crimson eyes of the risen. Morgan immediately signaled for the Pegasus knights retreat quickly, luring the wyverns up to the sky, clear of any risen archers that could have been lying low. Then an aerial duel commenced.

Though they were outnumbered, Morgan remained confident. The agile Pegasi would easily outmaneuver the larger and slower wyverns. Morgan herself was particularly well-equipped to handle these foes, and began unleashing her wind magic, each precisely aimed gust bringing down a wyvern. Cynthia and Sumia, knowing full well that it would be too dangerous to go head-to-head with these foes, instead circled them, distracting some of their foes to buy time. Tiki had taken to the air, her devastating ice breath proving nearly as effective as Morgan's magic against their reptilian enemies. Cordelia seemed undaunted by the superior strength of her foes, as she weaved in and out of the swarm, repeatedly striking at the wyverns. After several passes, she had only brought down a single wyvern, but left several of the others flying awkwardly with damaged wings. Somehow, throughout the battle, the clever warrior had always kept herself just out of range. Knowing the riders were catching on to her rhythm, she retreated quickly, allowing her daughter and Tiki to finish the wounded beasts.

"That was pretty reckless of them," Morgan noted. "I don't think they're being controlled. Or if they are, they're being controlled pretty poorly."

"Then perhaps Grima isn't watching his servants closely," Lucina suggested, a little wishfully. "Perhaps he has yet to gather his strength."

"Grima will not challenge Naga here today," Tiki assured. "Her presence is still strong, and with the amount of risen they created, and with their impending siege on the capital, the fell dragons will not travel so far, where their power is so much weaker. The risen are here to disrupt and slow the ritual, nothing more."

The task of clearing the risen from Mount Prism was no less treacherous, but Tiki's assurance resonated with the small party, renewing their determination. They returned to the lake where they had attempted to land before, and this time, no wyverns greeted them. From there, they ventured cautiously into the woods.

Over a dozen risen fell over them quickly, but ever alert, the Shepherds quickly destroyed several as Morgan directed them back to the clearing. She was the last to flee, loosing lightning bolts as she went, and by the time they returned to the clearing, only three of the risen were left. The skilled Shepherds dispatched the last few risen easily enough, with Morgan instructing Tiki to hold her fire, not wanting to expend the power of her valuable dragon stone. As the last risen fell, Morgan looked around cautiously, wondering if her caution had been excessive.

Her paranoia was vindicated a moment later, as crimson eyes flashed in every direction. The risen advanced forward, emerging from the cluttered forest and lumbering straight towards them. Behind them, from across the lake, risen began to emerge all around. Hoof beats announced the presence of undead cavalry, as well. The Shepherds were outnumbered badly, but for the moment, Morgan saw no archers or mages among the risen. With the lake to their backs, and an easy escape with the four Pegasi nearby, their positioning was as favorable as Morgan could have hoped for. Sumia fell back immediately, taking up her staff. Of the eight she was the least skilled in fighting on foot, and she was also the only one aside from Morgan who had any experience with wielding staves. The others fanned out, forming a defensive line. Morgan had drawn her sword, when the sight of a risen archer appearing across the lake changed her mind. Morgan sheathed Eternity and instead hurled lightning across the lake, destroying the archer immediately.

The skilled Shepherds were easily annihilating the risen that approached, while Morgan kept her eye out for more archers, picking off four more as they showed themselves. But the risen continued to flow into the clearing, and though the ground was soon covered in black powder and rusty weapons, it seemed the horde around them was only growing. Morgan kept Valflame ready; if they were on the verge of being overwhelmed, the explosions would buy them the time they needed to retreat. It seemed a shame to scar this sacred land with magical flames, but it was certainly preferable to the alternative.

Then the reinforcements began to slow. The timing was quite fortunate, as they had been battling the risen for well over twenty minutes, and fatigue was beginning to set in. "They're almost finished!" Tiki roared encouragingly, as she quickly dispatched another pair of the risen with her claws. Their impending victory proved to be the second wind they needed, and they vigorously pressed onwards. Right as it seemed like victory had been secured, though, Morgan spotted the final wave of risen reinforcements.

They were unlike anything any of them had ever seen before. While most risen wore ragged clothing or worn armor, these risen wore only a moldy loincloth and musty cloth hood. Each hood had a conical tip, two eye slits from which their ruby eyes gleamed with malice, and a third, horizontal cut where the mouth would be. The mouths of the hoods were stitched together loosely. A fabulous golden chain hung around the base of each hood. Their exposed skin was shriveled and withered much like the other risen, but stretched over bulging muscles, and rather than the ashen, violet-tinged coloration that the common risen bore, these risen were a sickly yellow-green. They carried no weapons, but their rotted hands were disfigured into crude talons.

One of them let out a roar. The new risen shared the same guttural voice, but the primal cry seemed deeper, somehow. Magically inspired, their cries seemed to chill the air around them. There were eight of these in total. Morgan blasted one away with Valflame, the carefully-placed explosion settling mere inches above the grass. To her surprise, the risen survived, though not without sustaining horrible burns. Morgan fired a lightning bolt immediately after to finish it, but the golden chains flashed, negating much of her spell. With a grimace, she released a second blast of Valflame, the only spell in her arsenal strong enough to defeat these new foes, and drew forth her sword.

Thankfully, the others had cleaned up the remaining common risen, and now fought only against their new, hooded foes. To their relief, while the creatures were quite resilient, they were also incredibly slow and clumsy. Their horrid, fetid talons had limited reach, and the skilled warriors, even while weary, could easily avoid the lumbering menaces. Still, it took several solid blows to bring down each of the risen, and by the end, even Owain, so rarely lost for words, stood silently, inspecting their handiwork.

"The risen are gone," Tiki said, answering their silent fears. "We should be off. Naga's altar awaits."

* * *

><p>"We made it," Lucina said, relief flooding her voice as they found the rather rustic entrance to Naga's shrine. The path into the temple was comprised of smooth paving stones, spaced evenly across a small overgrown meadow, the tall grass creeping over the simple road. A few pillars had been placed decoratively along the path, but unlike the intricately carved pillars used in the Grimleal temples, the carvings these pillars bore were simple and elegant lines.<p>

For Lucina, Cynthia, Owain, and Severa, it was a familiar sight. It was at this very place that they escaped their own timeline, hoping to simply avert their grim fate when they realized they could challenge it no more. Like Naga's Cradle, the place held a comforting aura. The divine dragon's power brought them all a measure of peace, save for Severa and Cordelia. Severa, alone, looked unhappy to be there, her normally confident and graceful stride hesitant, and her expression nervous. Cordelia still maintained her perfect, eerie composure.

They entered the hallowed shrine through a simple archway of carved stone, tinged with a bluish hue. The hallway was long, but again, Naga and her devout followers seemed to favor simplicity and the natural in their design. The walls were plain and unassuming, and the stone had been worn over the years, small blades of grass peeking through the cracks. The tunnel was wide and airy, allowing the eight of them to walk side-by-side, their Pegasi following comfortably behind them.

"Are you alright?" Morgan asked Severa, noting her sister's unease.

"I'm fine," Severa replied shortly, not willing to elaborate further. Lucina glanced at her sympathetically, remembering their escape, knowing that while the others looked upon the shrine and remembered their escape, Severa could only be remembering the death of her little sister.

The tunnel then spilled out into a large, circular chamber. In the center of the chamber laid a pristine, white marble altar. Behind it stood a sculpture, depicting a beautiful woman with long, flowing hair, a billowing, thin, veil bound to her arms, arcing gracefully behind her. Her face was locked into an eternal, serene smile. Behind her stood a dragon, one that looked much like Tiki and Nowi when they transformed, with smooth, elegant contours and a pair of wings spread protectively around the woman.

"Call to her," Tiki instructed calmly. Lucina nodded confidently, and carefully rested the Fire Emblem upon the altar. She had imagined the ritual before, and the mere thought of facing Naga's flames had made her nervous. But now, at the moment of truth, she knew that Naga would stand behind her, and that she would survive.

"Hear me, Naga!" Lucina called, her voice steady and calm. "I bear proof of our sacred covenant! In the name of the exalted blood, I ask for the divine dragon's power! Baptize me in your divine flames, that I may become your true daughter, and extinguish despair from our realm once more!"

Upon hearing her plea, sparkling sapphire flames erupted around Lucina, the holy fire wrapping around her, hiding her completely from her companions, who cried out in alarm. But Lucina did not scream, did not make any noise at all, and the flames swirled around her, as she drew Falchion, holding the blade straight up in the air with both hands. She felt no heat, only the flames reaching deep into her heart, searching for her will to fight. After several seconds within the sacred maelstrom, she suddenly felt a warmth spread from her heart, and she knew she had succeeded.

Lucina lowered her blade, and as she did so, the flames spiraled around Falchion, too, drawn into the weapon and its wielder. As the last vestiges of the sacred fires died away, Falchion began to shine with an inner light. Lucina smiled, as her friends sighed in relief. "It's done," she confirmed.

"Indeed. Be welcome in this place, Awakener." They all turned at the mysterious voice, and found a woman standing before them. She seemed to glow with bluish green light, but otherwise looked exactly like the sculpture behind them. Her voice was gentle, yet unwavering. "Your heart has been tested and deemed worthy. Cleansed in my fire, your desire has proven to burn the stronger."

"Then you will grant me the power to defeat Grima? The power of a goddess?" Lucina asked urgently.

"I am no goddess," Naga said, shaking her head somberly.

"But… you are the divine dragon!" Cynthia protested. Naga merely smiled.

"So do sons of man name me, but I am no creator," Naga corrected serenely. "I possess not the powers of making or unmaking. And neither does Grima. Neither of us bears the power to truly destroy the other."

"But then… how can Grima be defeated?" Lucina protested. The legends were quite clear regarding the first exalt and his victory over Grima.

"With my blessing, thou may draw forth Falchion's true might. The blade of the exalt shall again strike like the dragon's fang. Your strength will then be my equal, enough to face the fell dragon," Naga explained.

"But… you just said the power isn't enough to destroy the fell dragon," Morgan said, confused.

"Alas, Grima cannot be slain. Sleep alone can be your victory. Like your ancestor, Lucina, you must return Grima to his slumber, where he will remain, banished from your world for another millennium," Naga pronounced.

"There's no way to destroy Grima for good?" Sumia asked, clearly upset. "The fell dragon has brought so much suffering to our world already! We can't allow him to simply return a thousand years later!"

"There exists only one power that could end Grima. That power would be his own. As Grima would never destroy himself of his own volition, I am afraid banishing him is your only hope," Naga said sadly.

"Fine," Lucina said acceptingly. "If Grima does return one day, then I'm certain our descendants will one day find the strength we have and defeat him once more."

Naga nodded. "You possess wisdom beyond your age," Naga said approvingly. "Rest quickly. Grima closes as we speak, approaching Ylisstol. With Falchion's full might bared, you must face and defeat the fell dragon. All of you will need your strength for the trials ahead."


	9. Chapter 7: Looming Darkness

**Chapter 7: Looming Darkness**

The many soldiers gathered cheered as the Shepherds, outlined by the first rays of the rising sun, arrived at the city's western perimeter. Fortifications had been arranged hastily around Ylisstol. Many of the soldiers were not true fighters, but with ruin crawling steadily closer, every able-bodied man and woman had been given a weapon. Reinforcements had arrived from Ferox as well, and nearly five thousand Ylissean and Feroxi stood side-by-side, ready to face the fell dragon's army together.

Prince Chrom himself led the Shepherds. He did not hide his wounded arm, and stood proudly with his head held high. Seeing their ruler standing by their side despite such a vicious injury only inspired the soldiers further. Morgan's suggestion had proven effective, and after a few days of hasty training, Chrom now carried a large, ornate axe with an elegantly shaped head that Flavia had recovered from the remains of the Deadlords. At Frederick's insistence, the weapon had been polished and refurbished, and now bore a rather regal appearance with the addition of several emeralds. Chrom had scoffed at the waste of time, but Flavia and Basilio had both agreed with the knight – as their leader, anything to add to his formidable appearance would only bolster morale. So Chrom held the finely decorated axe without complaint, and consented to having his armor polished and his cape replaced with a fine, royal Feroxi cloak. Lucina's Falchion remained in its intricately decorated sheath on his weapons belt, crafted from fine leather and sporting a shining gold buckle.

In the prince's wake followed his most loyal friends and allies, save for those who had secretly departed for Mount Prism. Like their leader, they were heroes to the realm, and had all been outfitted with the finest armor and weaponry available. The Feroxi khans followed as well, and were met with roars of approval from their own people standing amongst the Ylissean ranks.

Chrom let his gaze sweep over the staunch defenders. The preparations had been completed in a surprisingly short time, yet not a moment too soon, for the Pegasus riders had already confirmed the steady advance of the risen army. At least ten thousand risen would reach Ylisstol by early afternoon. Among them, the scouts had sighted a new breed of risen as well, reportedly wearing horrid hoods and ragged loincloths and carrying no weapons beside their deformed hands. Needing a name for them, Chrom and Frederick had christened the malignant beasts the entombed, as their forms were remarkably well-preserved, even if thoroughly twisted. Regardless of the size of the army that approached, spirits were high, and Chrom felt reasonably confident that they would win the day against the risen.

But in any battle so large, the cost would be great, Chrom knew. He had seen the battlefields of Valm after the Conqueror's fall, splashed crimson with the blood of the fallen, and littered with bodies and discarded weapons, intact or broken. And this time, their enemies were risen and would fight on until death claimed them once more. Chrom bolstered his resolve and firmly drove the fear from his heart, instead focusing on baby Lucina.

The girl had been ecstatic to see her father returned. She babbled happily, and Chrom knew with certainty that Lucina's words made sense to herself, at least. The other two infants that had been left behind, Inigo and Severa, were both growing healthily, too. Seeing them only renewed Chrom's desire to build them a peaceful future, so that they might never live through the darkness that their older selves had suffered.

But he knew, too, that if Grima were to join in the attack, victory could prove impossible. Should either or both of the fell dragons strike, Chrom knew that their hopes rested on the older Lucina, who must have reached Mount Prism days ago by now. Based on Morgan's initial estimates, the party that ventured to Naga's shrine would be returning this very day.

"Nervous, milord?" Frederick asked kindly, guessing Chrom's thoughts easily enough.

"Not at all," Chrom lied, with a confident grin. "Come on Frederick, how many risen have we killed before? By the time Morgan and Lucina get back with the Awakening complete, the risen will be dead, and Grima will soon follow."

"Hah!" Vaike cheered enthusiastically. "The Vaike will kill a thousand of these things alone! They don't stand a chance!" Like all the other Shepherds, his new armor added to his apparent formidability, the fine leather straps decorated with small medals and silver buckles. Chrom smiled, appreciating his friend's support.

Behind Vaike, Lissa stood, glowing radiantly in a robe similar to the one her older sister had often worn. She looked a little bit uncomfortable with her new appearance; Maribelle had helped Lissa comb her hair neatly down behind her shoulders, and now Lissa bore a strong resemblance to Emmeryn. Lissa tried to carry herself with the same poise and serenity Emmeryn was known for, but even with the similar clothing and hairstyle, the two sisters were quite distinct. Not that anyone really minded – the youngest princess of Ylisse had always been beloved for her kind smile and playful nature as much as Emmeryn had been revered for her calm, soothing demeanor.

The Shepherds continued their tour of the defensive line for some time, trying to pass within view of as many of the soldiers as they could, until the war horns began to sound – the risen tide had arrived. Knowing that the time had come, Chrom led the Shepherds back to the center of the line, and faced the encroaching armies.

From a distance, the risen appeared as nothing more than a single shadow, slowly seeping across the quiet meadows. All the soldiers and Shepherds watched with bated breath as the risen drew closer. Though they still could not make out the individual risen, it began to appear as if the shadow was squirming and writhing.

As their enemy closed nearer and nearer, finally, Ylisstol's defenders could make out the appearance of the risen. For some, it was there first time seeing the horrid undead creatures in the flesh. For all of them, save for the Pegasus scouts hovering overhead, it was the first time seeing the entombed that were scattered throughout the risen line. Chrom raised his hand commandingly, preparing to signal for the first volley, waiting for the risen to come within range.

"Fire!" Chrom finally cried, and the captains around the city echoed the cry. Ballistae scattered throughout their line answered his call, and a storm of heavy wooden bolts surged forth, cutting into the risen army. A trio of hastily constructed catapults fired as well, sending massive chunks of rock through the sky to plummet down upon the risen.

Within half a minute, the ballistae were reloaded, and a second wave of bolts rained out. The catapults had been reloaded, too, with smaller chunks of rock as the largest projectiles had taken far too long to prepare initially, and the Ylisseans put the siege weaponry to work, whittling away at their enemies from afar. The defenders cheered as the barrage continued and the risen began to crumble, though they were still a thousand feet away from the city.

A deafening roar filled all their hearts with dread a moment later. Everyone, even Chrom and the Shepherds, looked up in terror, as a massive draconic head with six glowing crimson eyes descended, piercing the clouds. The dragon's serpentine body followed, carried by six enormous leathery black wings. The wyrm's great maw stretched wide and emitted another bone-chilling scream, as if hoping to silence hope itself.

Silence, steeped in fear, ensued, and the defenders looked to one another, and to their prince, as despair snuck quietly into their hearts.

"For Ylisse!" Chrom cried, breaking the silence, and answering Grima's rallying cry with one of his own.

The Shepherd's took up the cry. "For Ylisse!" They echoed.

"For Ferox!" Khan Basilio and Khan Flavia added.

The soldiers, though initially disheartened at the sight of such an insurmountable foe, took up the cries, and the voluminous din rivaled the strength of the dragon's cry. The barrage, which had halted momentarily, resumed, raining destruction upon the approaching risen and returning them to their rest. But their undead foes were undaunted, marching on until they reached the forts. Grima himself hovered overhead, casting a great shadow across the capital as he came to a rest above them. But to Chrom's surprise and relief, the other fell dragon did not follow, and this fell dragon did not move to attack, content to simply cast the city into darkness.

Not one of the Shepherds hesitated to throw themselves into the fray. As Ricken, Miriel, Tharja, and Henry marshalled the Ylissean mages and unleashed torrents of fire, lightning, and wind upon the approaching risen, Chrom himself led the charge, followed quickly by Frederick, Stahl, and Sully. Scores of Ylissean knights, mounted on armored horses joined the fray. Overhead, Cherche dove into the fray, riding on Minerva who had been expertly and hastily doctored.

The other Shepherds began to spread themselves along the perimeter, as the risen washed over the defensive line. The defenders had been concentrated upon the western half of the city, and it would be some time before the risen could circumvent their armies. Contingents of Ylissean and Feroxi archers and javelin-bearers peppered the risen as they tried to approach. But despite their efforts, the flood of foes seemed to hardly diminish at all.

Chrom quickly found himself face-to-face with three of the entombed. To his relief, the entombed were slow and clumsy, and with their low reach, he was able to easily punish their attacks, bashing and cleaving at them with his deceptively light axe, the razor-sharp edge slicing through undead flesh effortlessly. A pair of conventional risen, bearing lances and wearing light plate armor approached, and Chrom quickly recalled his hurried training with his new weapon. As one moved forward with a thrust, Chrom put the heavy head of his weapon to use, snapping the feeble lance outright. He then retracted his axe, and, sidestepping his other foe, closed in and beheaded the unfortunate risen. A second precise strike cleaved the headless risen in two.

The slaughter was a scene repeated across their line. Olivia and Inigo danced into the fray, inspiring the warriors around them with the grace and precision of their carefully calculated swordplay, the spinning movements keeping the risen at bay. Gaius moved quickly along the battle field, eliminating the risen mages and archers with his bow, his sword at hand to fend off any risen who closed in on the nimble rogue. Lon'qu still carried Balmung, and with it, struck at the risen faster than most of his allies could follow, felling foe after foe with blinding speed. Virion rode nearby, protecting another contingent of mounted knights as he sent arrow after arrow into their foes. One undead Grimleal mage leveled a spell at Virion as he passed, but Henry, standing a distance away on the walls, invoked Aversa's long-range dark magic and a burst of emerald flames consuming the risen. Beside him, Tharja was making use of Aversa's dark-lightning tome, which she had identified as the legendary tome Goetia, blasting away entire swarms of risen with the crackling aphotic energy.

Frederick and his knights proved even more devastating to the ranks of risen foot soldiers. Even as his mighty lance tore through one foe, his powerful stallion trampled another one to dust. Sully and Stahl followed his charge, cutting their own swaths of destruction. Closer to the wall, Donnel, Vaike, Kellam and Gregor held their own positions firmly, mopping away any risen who dared to approach. Libra led a contingent of young war monks and war clerics, who had joined his order in the wake of the Second Plegian War. Together, the servants of Naga moved swiftly across the field, cutting down foes with their axes and mending the wounds of their fallen allies. Anna flitted back and forth across the lines, a jack-of-all-trades. One moment, she razed away a pair of the risen with her Levin sword, the next, her curved blade came out and eviscerated an entombed. Finally, she fell back, drawing a long-ranged healing staff in an effort to help their wounded fighters escape the front line alive.

Several of the Ylissean soldiers cried out in surprise when Nowi joined the fray. Until then, many had thought her lost, a little girl wandering the battlefield instead of remaining in the safety in the city, but she had firmly insisted she was one of the Shepherds. That had only just begun put their doubts to ease, and failed to prepare them for the spectacle of an iridescent green dragon emerging in their midst. As Nowi spewed forth a brutal wave of ice shards, pummeling the risen before her to the ground, some of the Ylisseans even prostrated themselves before her, convinced that it was Naga's incarnation coming to them in their time of need.

Still, the savage assault continued, and the risen pressed on. The defensive line began to fall back when they realized some of the risen had almost managed to spill around them. Though over two thousand risen already lay dead, their enemies still seemed endless. And then Grima roared once more, reminding them of the great foe that yet awaited them.

The screams were almost incoherent above the clamor of battle, so it was some time before Chrom had realized what happened. Finally, it was Frederick who signaled to him the truth of Grima's latest gambit – the risen had started appearing within the city itself. His heart sinking, Chrom hastily called for a retreat and the soldiers obediently fell back.

Sure enough, their return was met with hundreds of risen storming through the city streets. The elderly, the children, and the weak had taken refuge in some of the larger buildings near the capital together, and were now trapped. Heeding Chrom's desperate orders, the fastest soldiers made to the heart of the city with haste, even while those barely fit to fight desperately battled the risen foes that had suddenly appeared on their doorstep.

Soon, the entire city had fallen into disarray, and Shepherds and soldiers were spread out all across the city, battling against the risen that began to pour in from any direction they pleased. Chrom himself made his way to the castle, Frederick, Virion, Gaius, and Lissa following close behind. To their relief and horror, the castle entrance was held by none other than Maribelle, who despite her condition, was unleashing torrents of magic upon the foes approaching, along with Duke Themis's personal guard. They fell back soon enough and the risen stormed into the castle, but Chrom led the charge, and the chaos that had consumed the rest of the city spread into the main hall of the castle, too.

Several soldiers, eager to fight beside their prince followed them into the hall. Lissa did her best to heal them, and Maribelle, who had retreated to the corner of the room with a long-ranged healing staff of her own, did the same. But before long the floor was still littered with blood, bodies, ash, and fallen weapons. Still, the Shepherds and the soldiers were cleanly winning the battle in the castle itself, and pretty soon the hall was clear of risen. Chrom, seeing that the castle was safe, hastily led his soldiers back out to the streets after quickly ordering Gaius and the soldiers to stay and make sure the castle remained secure. Fighting had poured through all the streets, and Chrom and his allies were immediately greeted by a horrible brawl when they rushed out of the castle. Hundreds of risen and soldiers battled around them, and they hastily joined the fray, trying to clear the risen out, vigorously cutting down foe after foe.

A vortex of dark energy appeared on the ground below Chrom's feet. Frederick was the first to react, riding through it and shoving Chrom away, fearing it to be some magical assault. But the spell did not function quite as he expected – a pair of shadowy claws emerged, snaking out at the end of a pair of inky black tentacles. As Frederick tried to escape himself, one of the claws rushed forward, grasping him around the chest, the cursed digits pinning him tightly. Frederick cried out in protest as the seemingly insubstantial appendage spun, throwing him from his mount to crash painfully into the ground nearly twenty paces away.

Chrom looked on, horrified as black mist continued to spew forth from the vortex, solidifying into a vaguely skeletal figure. The creature ended at is ribcage, the lower half of its body engulfed in a dark cloud. The two tentacles had shrank into bony arms, but the claws remained, and the creature's skull seemed to be an imitation of Grima himself, with a draconic maw and six glowing red eyes. A pair of bony wings extended from the creature's back. Chrom braced himself for the abomination's attack, but instead of charging, it gracefully swooped to the side, a crimson glow appearing in the center of its ribcage like an exposed heart. The cloud that surrounded its extended spine seemed to elongate as the monster lifted up into the air. Finally, the abomination came to rest beside a familiar figure, who hung casually suspended beside it.

"Did you really expect to defeat me like this?" Grima asked. He still wore Robin's body, and Chrom guessed it to be the Grima that had followed Lucina from the future timeline, as he carried no weapon. The tactician still spoke with Robin's voice, but with the powerful, cruel echo that Chrom knew could only be Grima's own voice. The soldiers around Chrom looked stunned. Robin's death was known to them, but his connection to Grima had been kept quiet. The last thing the soldiers had expected to see was the platinum-blond tactician, complete with his trademark robes and gold-leafed light plate armor, hovering and in control of some sort of demonic creature, challenging Chrom.

Chrom roared in outrage and leapt forward, cleaving his axe downwards. But Grima was as fast as Robin had been, and with his ability to defy gravity, simply drifted back out of range, and retaliated with a quick barrage of stinging black fireballs. "You dare use his body against us!?" Chrom demanded, in hopes of spurring on his confused allies, as he rushed forward, chopping wildly. Again, Grima proved too quick for the straightforward attack, and this time, it was the demonic skeleton that countered, slashing forward with its claws. Chrom's axe had been caught and torn from his grasp as he retreated just in time to avoid being torn apart.

The soldiers nearby rushed to attack the monster, infuriated by the attack on their beloved prince, and livid at the thought of Grima desecrating the body of their fallen tactician and hero. But the soldiers were no match for the fiend, and they were soon scattered, dead or clutching crippling, fatal wounds.

Lissa's healing magic then washed over Frederick who leapt to rejoin the fray. Chrom retrieved his axe and the two of them faced the fiend together. Knowing of its strength now, they were careful to avoid its attacks, and tried to chip at the creature whenever an opening presented itself. But Grima still hovered nearby, circling them and firing off his dark magic.

Chrom and Frederick found themselves sorely outmatched. The demonic skeleton was faster and stronger than either of them. They never truly found the openings they needed for their own attacks, so their own blows were feeble. Unfazed, their adversary continued to harry them, its bony talons raking at them repeatedly, creasing their armor and gouging their flesh beneath. Lissa's constant healing magic was keeping them standing, but the weariness would overwhelm them soon. Worse still, they all realized Grima wasn't taking this fight seriously; should the fell dragon grow weary of this battle, he could simply target Lissa instead of waiting for her staff to run out of magic or for Chrom and Frederick to cave in to the relentless assault.

Then, to their relief, help arrived in the form of an archer with light blue hair, galloping across the city streets on his armored horse. Virion immediately sent several arrows streaking towards Grima. As Grima predictably swerved away, Virion followed, and one of the arrows struck Grima's shoulder. To Virion's surprise, the arrow deflected off Grima's robes. Grima hissed angrily and retaliated with a jet of black flames that Virion only narrowly evaded. Lon'qu then joined the fray, spotting their plight. The skilled swordsman was one of the few who could match the demonic skeleton's speed, and with his help, they were able to keep the menace at bay.

Their titanic clash was less one-sided now, but still, the Shepherds were no closer to actually bringing down either of their powerful adversaries. Lon'qu landed a few blows on the skeleton, and while the fiend seemed to flinch as if the blows had pained it, he was unable to split or shatter the shadowy bones. The demonic skeleton countered by swinging both arms back and plunging them into the ground. It swung both claws forward, and when they rose from the ground once more, a dark fire burst from the ground, traveling outwards like a shockwave. It then rushed forward, following the wave of magic, spinning wildly, its claws and wings extended. Frederick couldn't turn in time, and the magical wave blasted his steed off its feet, dismounting Frederick in the process. Before the knight could recover, the abomination descended upon him, the bony appendages raking at him brutally as the creature spun. Frederick fell back, his armor sporting several new scratches from the whirlwind of cursed bone.

This time, it was Chrom who saved his knight. The prince rushed forth, with his pauldron leading, ramming into the demonic skeleton. Behind him, Frederick climbed got to his feet as Lissa's magic reached out to him again, and backed away hastily. Chrom, too, retreated, diving away just in time as the skull's maw opened wide and a torrent of black fire gushed out, narrowly missing both men. Lon'qu took the chance to attack from the other direction, a fierce diagonal cut right towards the creature's neck.

The demonic skeleton recoiled noiselessly, though clearly pained by the powerful blow. Grima began gesturing towards Lon'qu, conjuring another spell, when the flutter of Pegasus wings announced the arrival of another pair of challengers.

Mimicking her father's attack against the Conqueror, Lucina sprang from the back of her mother's Pegasus, throwing her weight and momentum behind her next attack. Grima, taken by surprise, tried to drift away, but Lucina soared through the air and her blade hit its mark. As Falchion connected with Grima's chest, right over his heart, Lucina felt as if she had tried to strike a wall. She bounced away, tumbling painfully to the ground below, but was grateful to see that the blade had managed to penetrate the avatar's powerful defenses. Grima was clutching the wound, growling in pain, and Falchion's tip shined with blood.

Naga's power had flowed through the blade, too, and it had ignited Grima's armor near the wound with sapphire blue flames.

"Damn that meddling Naga!" Grima howled, as the sapphire flames seemed to spread. A rift opened as he spoke, seizing Grima and whisking him away, likely back to his post upon the fell dragon's back. Lucina turned to face the demonic skeleton that was still battling with Lon'qu and Chrom as above them, Grima turned, banking hard, and began to flee to the west.

With Grima's avatar and his magical assault out of the way, the abomination he had left behind was now sorely outnumbered. Sumia's healing magic washed over Frederick, just as Lissa's staff had run dry, and he rushed forward, attacking the abomination as well as Lucina. Beset from all sides, the demonic skeleton flailed wildly, but to no avail. Its bones began to crack under the weight of repeated blows from all of its attackers, and finally, with a mighty overhead chop, Chrom brought his axe down upon the creature's skull, shattering it. The shards of bone scattered and crumbled to dust.

They stood over their fallen foe, catching their breath for a moment. Then Chrom rushed forward and embraced his daughter tightly, tears of relief streaming from his face. "Lucina! You're alright!"

Lucina, equally relieved, returned the hug wholeheartedly. "Father, the Awakening is complete. Falchion carries the full might of the divine dragon once more."

Sumia landed beside them, and rushed to hold her husband as well. "Morgan and the others are spreading through the city to help them destroy the risen," she explained quickly.

"Good," Chrom said, regaining his composure. "What of Grima? The sacred flames seemed to be spreading as he fled, might that be enough to destroy him?"

"I'm afraid not," Naga answered, appearing suddenly and startling all the Shepherds, even Lucina and Sumia. "My presence accompanies Falchion, and will remain with Lucina until this affair is settled," she explained as she noticed their surprised looks.

"You… you are Naga? The divine dragon?" Chrom asked faintly, startled upon seeing the goddess appear before him.

"I am," Naga confirmed. "The avatar that Grima approached you with is meaningless to him. Even if you destroy it, he can repair it if he finds it necessary. You will have to ascend to the dragon's back. The two dragons are more intimately connected to Grima's power, and at the nape of each dragon's neck, he is vulnerable. Strike with Falchion, and Grima will be banished."

"Will we have to defeat both fell dragons in such a manner?" Lucina asked, alarmed at the prospect.

"No," Naga said, and they all sighed in relief. "The two fell dragons, and the two avatars, are not truly separate entities," Naga explained. "They are vessels bound to the same spirit and essence. With the power he has amassed in your world, he has found the strength to embody all four forms, but Grima is not truly of this layer of existence. His spirit resides upon a higher plane altogether, which cannot be reached."

"So if he's on a different plane, how can we destroy him?" Chrom demanded. Naga shook her head sadly.

"Prince Chrom, Grima cannot be destroyed unless he allows himself to be destroyed. The only power that can ripple across the planar divide and strike at his essence is his own," Naga explained gently. "But my power will seal him away for some time. Once he is sealed away, the power that animates his four vessels will recede, and a millennium will pass before Grima can plague your world once more."

"Isn't there some way to turn his own power against him?" Frederick demanded. "How can we condemn our descendants to face the beast again? We must finish this!"

"There is no way," Naga said sadly. "Your descendants must find their own strength to challenge Grima once more when the time comes. Now, go forth and purge your city of the risen. Grima has weakened himself significantly, though he has likely not exhausted his arsenal. Destroy his minions, then we will pursue him and put an end to this."

* * *

><p>Night had fallen by the time the city was entirely clear of risen. Of the five thousand defenders, nearly two thousand had been killed. Several hundred civilians had been slain by Grima's cunning ambush as well, when the risen had spilled into the city. But none of the risen had even bothered to flee, and Grima's army had been thoroughly destroyed.<p>

Every Shepherd had survived, though many bore serious wounds. Still, none were quite as bad as the wounds they had suffered in their battle against the Deadlords, and they were all gathered in the throne room, along with Khan Basilio and Khan Flavia. Only Cordelia was missing, having retreated to her room with her baby. The rest of the city was hard at work burying the dead. It was a difficult decision, but a new cemetery had been plotted outside of the city to the east. One day, a memorial could be erected to those who gave their lives protecting the city, but for now, the graves would be watched carefully for any sign of Grima's twisted magic.

Once they were all listening attentively, Lucina relayed the events at Mount Prism, and the nature of their quest now. Most of the journey was uneventful so the story did not take long to tell.

"So… Grima can't be destroyed for good?" Basilio grumbled.

"Apparently not," Lucina confirmed sadly. "But we will do what we must."

"Indeed," Chrom agreed. "But how do we possibly reach Grima's back?"

"Once we approach the fell dragon, I can send you all onto the dragon's back. But my powers are limited, and the rest will be in your hands," Naga explained, reappearing besides Lucina.

"Where is Grima now?" Lucina demanded urgently.

"To the west of Plegia, just beyond Carrion Isle, lies a volcano known as Origin Peak. That is where Grima first came into this world, and where his magic is strongest. He will be headed there, gathering his strength once more," Naga explained.

"Fitting," Chrom commented in a satisfied tone. "That's where it began, and that's where we will put an end to it."

"Indeed," Lucina agreed quickly. "We must begin our march at sunrise." The Shepherds dispersed, preparing for what would likely be their final battle, for better or for worse.

* * *

><p>"Mother," Severa greeted kindly, as she found Cordelia gently standing over a baby – her own younger self. Though a faint smile had appeared on Cordelia's youthful yet worn expression as her gaze rested upon the infant, Severa still felt uneasy.<p>

"Hello, Severa," Cordelia replied softly, as baby Severa played with one of her fingers, giggling happily.

"Mother, you should remain here with the baby," Severa suggested. "I spoke with Morgan, Lucina, and Chrom… all three of them agreed. Most of the fighting will fall upon Lucina with Falchion."

"I'm not staying behind," Cordelia said firmly, though her tone remained steady and strangely lighthearted.

"You're not alright, Mother!" Severa protested. "You think I can't see it? How you've been pushing down everything you feel, hiding all your grief and pain? I lived that life for years!"

"Then you know why I can't stay," Cordelia answered, and Severa fell silent. Cordelia sighed heavily. "Severa… I've made you so many promises. Promises that I would do anything to keep. But… I'm worried that it might not be enough. So… I'm sorry, Severa. If I fail you again, if I break my promise and leave you and Morgan again…" Cordelia said, her voice beginning to falter.

"No!" Severa insisted angrily. "Don't talk like that! You were always a legend, mother! The greatest of Ylisse's Pegasus knights! You were supposed to be perfect and unstoppable!"

"I know," Cordelia said tiredly. "I'm sorry I couldn't live up to my own reputation."

"You have!" Severa insisted. "You've never once given up. You're stronger than anyone I've ever known!"

The faint smile returned to Cordelia's lips as she gazed upon her obstinate daughter. "Thank you, Severa. I… I hope you're right then, and that I'm strong enough to keep my promise to you. All of my promises."

Severa thought to protest again, to try to dissuade her mother, but she knew it was a lost cause. "You'd better be. We leave at dawn tomorrow," Severa finally huffed, as she turned to leave.


	10. Chapter 8: Moment of Courage

**Chapter 8: Moment of Courage**

As the sun rose, the Shepherds set off once more. Chrom, Sumia, Olivia, Virion, and Cordelia said their farewells to the three children being left behind. Despite Maribelle's pleas to accompany them, Chrom and Gaius had been equally firm on her remaining behind in Ylisstol, given her condition. Finally, it was Brady who persuaded his mother that she was simply being unreasonable in insisting on going with them.

There were no soldiers accompanying them this time. They would have to take a small boat across to Origin Peak, and trying to move soldiers would be tedious and time consuming. Besides, Naga would only be able to transport so many of them onto Grima's back once they reached the fell dragon. Khan Flavia and Khan Basilio remained with the Shepherds, though, both insisting on seeing this ordeal through.

Their wounds had been treated already, and they would recover their strength during their march. Their supplies and weaponry had been hurriedly replenished as well, with most Shepherds carrying at least two or three weapons, and more than enough provisions for the journey there and back. The civilians gathered in Ylisse had poured out to watch the Shepherds set off for their final battle, and though the morning sun had only just peeked out from beyond the eastern horizon, the ravaged streets were already crowded with well-wishers.

Morgan had briefly considered borrowing as many Pegasi as possible and flying their entire company to Origin Peak, but that idea had been ruled impractical. There simply weren't enough Pegasi or skilled riders remaining, and with the Pegasi they could not carry nearly as much in terms of equipment. They had intentionally traveled light when they journeyed to Mount Prism, only barely carrying enough provisions for the six-day round trip. Instead, they settled for bringing spare horses and rotating them to make their journey as swift as possible. They followed the main roads through Plegia, which were thankfully clear of any risen. The Plegians who had survived the Awakening were ready to help however they could, willingly exchanging horses with them to speed their way. The Shepherds rode on until late each night, and set off at the break of dawn each morning.

When they neared the port from which the ferry once brought the Shepherds to Carrion Isle, Morgan and Chrom ventured out ahead. The surviving Plegians confirmed that the fell dragon had passed only a day before, and like all the Plegians they had encountered, were more than willing to help. By the time the Shepherds arrived, a pair of small ships had been set aside. They loaded their supplies quickly and set off, the villagers promising to care for the Shepherds' animals being left behind while awaiting their triumphant return.

* * *

><p>The Shepherds sailed past Carrion Island, the abandoned castle leering at them gloomily in the distance, and as Naga had promised, Origin Peak was within sight. Above it hovered the two fell dragons, awaiting the Shepherds. Tension hung thick in the air as the two ships approached the beach.<p>

"Grima has called more risen to his side," Naga warned, as they landed and began to disembark. "He knows of his weakness, and it will be well-protected. You will have to fight your way to the peak of the mountain."

"The risen will not stop us," Lucina replied confidently. Along with Chrom and Morgan, the three of them led the march up the mountainous path, making for the volcano's peak as Naga instructed.

* * *

><p>Just as Naga had warned, they found the field ahead of them littered with risen. To their surprise though, the risen weren't nearly as numerous as they had expected, and they were scattered widely. In fact, they were too far to be made out. As the others looked upon them with relief, Morgan felt only dread. This was already feeling too much like their battle with Aversa and the Deadlords, where they anticipated an army and instead found a small force of elite warriors to match their own.<p>

But there was no time to ponder it further. Upon seeing the Shepherds approach, the risen began closing in. Morgan quickly noticed that there were risen in the air as well, riding upon griffons and wyverns, flanking them from both sides. In the distance, over the peak, there were more fliers that seemed to be nearing. A large cliff separated two mountainous roads. From one side, a group of risen cavalry approached, from the other, a group of risen infantry. From behind the risen cavalry came a group of what looked to be risen mages.

"The cavalry will be the most difficult," Morgan determined quickly. Chrom and Lucina both nodded in agreement. "The fliers flanking us will reach us first, but we have to intercept the farther group of fliers else they descend upon us while we battle their cavalry and infantry."

Morgan then quickly separated the Shepherds into three teams. Cordelia, Sumia, Cynthia, and Nowi immediately flew off, soaring over the enemy lines to intercept the farther fliers. The remaining Shepherds would remain together until after the flanking griffons and wyverns were dealt with. Then, a larger team led by Chrom and Lucina would meet the cavalry force, while Virion would lead a smaller group to hold off their infantry.

They had only just finished relaying the plan when the wyverns and griffons swooped down upon them. Forewarned, the Shepherds had been waiting with arrows and wind magic at the ready, soundly rebuffing the first assault and felling several of them. Morgan and Cherche then soared up after those that remained.

To Morgan's relief, the risen weren't any stronger than ordinary risen. In fact, most of them felt weaker. Still, she fought cautiously, keeping her distance as she dispatched her flying adversaries. Neither Morgan nor Cherche had been in the battle of Breakneck pass. Neither of them recognized Captain Vasto of the Plegian wyvern knights leading the undead fliers, though there was some doubt as to whether any of the Shepherds would have remembered him well enough to recognize his partially rotted features.

Once the wyverns and griffons had been handled, the rest of the Shepherds split up and moved to their appointed positions, more than ready for this war to be over with.

* * *

><p>As the most experienced Pegasus knight, Cordelia had been tasked with the three fliers that were to intercept the farther group of enemy fliers. When the two groups drew near, she saw that their enemies were riding on Pegasi as well. There were eight of them, leaving them outnumbered, but Cordelia had battled the Valmese Pegasus knights often enough that she confidently expected an easy victory.<p>

That notion fell away a moment later, as she realized that her foes were not wearing Valmese riding armor. Instead, the armor bore the insignia worn by all of the Ylissean Pegasus knights. Dreading what she would find, but unable to turn away, Cordelia watched as their foes drew closer.

Leading the risen Pegasus knights was none other than Captain Phila. Behind her were the two loyal knights who also gave their lives in an attempt to save the exalt in Plegia. Behind them were five of Cordelia's own knight-sisters, killed in trying to repel the Plegian invaders years ago. Killed, even as Cordelia had been ordered to flee and warn the Shepherds.

Beside Cordelia, Sumia gasped in recognition. "T-That's impossible!" Sumia stammered, horrified that Grima would continue desecrating the remains of their deceased friends.

"So that's his plan," Cordelia remarked grimly. "Demoralize us by sending our old friends against us? Sorry, Grima, but we know better. Time to set our friends free." With that, Cordelia surged ahead to meet her former captain and instructor, and her knight-sisters. Sumia and Cynthia followed close behind, with Nowi riding behind Sumia, fingering her dragon stone apprehensively.

Cordelia had always held a reputation among the Pegasus knights, and with good reason. Despite being younger and less experienced than her knight-sisters, she had already been faster and stronger than her comrades, and she had only grown more capable since joining the Shepherds. She easily outmaneuvered them and began flitting around the edges of the battle, always striking, then retreating before the risen could strike back. At first, she used her javelins to keep her distance. Some of the risen hurled javelins back, but Cordelia easily swerved around them, and by the time Sumia and Cynthia had caught up, most of the javelins had been expended. Only six of the risen remained.

Cynthia immediately caught the attention of Phila's elite guards, the two of them rushing towards her. But Cynthia, unafraid, met her foes head on. They flew past each other repeatedly, extending their lances to swipe at each other. After a few passes, she managed to dismount one of her opponents, sending her tumbling hundreds of feet to the rocky slopes below, and Cynthia turned to face the second knight.

Sumia and Nowi found themselves facing off against Cordelia's three remaining knight-sisters. But while they had already wasted their own javelins, Sumia had hers. Sumia kept her distance neatly and took her time aiming, while Nowi challenged them directly, her thick Manakete scales protecting her from her undead foes. Their lithe frames and rusted, standard-issue steel lances simply couldn't harm the Manakete. Even as Cynthia successfully dismounted the second of the undead riders, Nowi had blasted two foes away, while Sumia had dispatched the last with a single well-placed javelin through the undead Pegasus's wings. She felt a pang in her heart, seeing the noble creature plummet to its death, but she also knew that Cordelia was right – better to be free of Grima's evil clutches.

* * *

><p>Cordelia, meanwhile, faced off against Phila. Cordelia flinched, noting the sad irony of the situation. Two of the greatest Pegasus knights of Ylissean history. Two women who had once offered to each other the greatest of respect, a veteran captain to her most promising pupil, and a recruit to her welcoming teacher and hero.<p>

One trapped in death, ensorcelled by the fell dragon's wicked dark magic, unable to go to her proper, well-deserved rest.

One trapped in life, bound by her responsibility to her daughters and friends, in a world that no longer welcomed her.

Cordelia spoke, although she wasn't sure if her old captain could understand her. "Captain Phila… can you hear me still?"

The risen said nothing, but made no move to attack, and Cordelia thought she saw a hint of curiosity in the otherwise passive expression.

"You've done so much for me, my captain. You guided me to a better life once before, when you welcomed me into your ranks. And though that ended in tragedy, you guided me on once again, when you sent me with the Shepherds," Cordelia continued. A single tear formed and slid down her cheek. "Without you, I would never have come so far. Without you, I would… I would never have met him."

Though Phila's expression didn't change, her glowing crimson eyes suddenly watered, and Cordelia knew, without a doubt, that some part of Phila's soul remained trapped against her will in this withering husk.

"Thank you, Captain Phila. It's been difficult," Cordelia said quietly. "He and I… we didn't have as much time together as we hoped. But what time we did have, and those memories we shared, I will treasure for whatever time I have left. I have never once forgotten the price my knight-sisters paid to give me my future. The price you willingly paid yourself."

The undead woman looked as if she desperately wanted to speak, but the only noise the creature could emit was a cruel snarl. Cordelia shook her head and smiled, a sad, grieving smile, for she knew their one-sided conversation had come to an end. "It's my turn, now. I'm sorry to do this to you… but I can't leave you in Grima's claws any longer, my captain. I'll free you from this, and we'll meet again, soon enough."

With another snarl, Captain Phila urged her Pegasus forward. Cordelia agilely guided Catria away from the straightforward assault. Phila had banked quickly, turning her own steed back, but Cordelia was faster. Cordelia brought Passion sweeping past with incredible speed, catching Phila's lance mid-parry, and with a powerful sweep, Cordelia sent the undead captain's weapon sailing from her grasp.

Undeterred, Captain Phila rushed forward in an attempt to ram Catria. But Cordelia was ready for the charge once more, and Catria swerved around, allowing Cordelia two clean strikes. One blow struck Captain Phila through the heart, and the other struck her Pegasus. Together, the undead captain and her steed fell gracefully, crumbling to ash as they went.

* * *

><p>Chrom gasped aloud when the cavalry emerged from the woods. Lucina, Frederick, and Basilio, standing by him, reacted much the same, gaping at the large figure clad in crimson armor that rode towards them. Despite the skin discoloration and glowing eyes, the Conqueror was every bit the intimidating figure in undeath as he was in life, and his signature weapon, his mighty red and black axe, swung easily in his grasp.<p>

Beside him rode several Valmese knights. Most of them were heavily armored and armed with swords and lances, but a pair of them wore the armored riding robes of the Valmese mage-knights and carried tomes instead. A pair of crimson, glowing dots peered out from under each of their hoods.

"The pure water!" Lucina reminded, as she spotted the approaching mages. Before they left Ylisse, Naga's priests and priestesses had provided them with a few canisters of blessed water, that, when imbibed, imbued one with innate magic resistance similar to Pegasi. Morgan had suggested that it be distributed among those who were most susceptible to magic attacks. Frederick, with his heavy armor, had suffered far more than his share of magically inflicted wounds, and upon hearing Lucina's reminder, he hastily pulled forth the flask Morgan had entrusted him with and gulped the liquid down. Chrom and Lucina swiftly followed suit, and not a moment too soon, for even as Lucina was casting the empty vial aside, a lightning bolt rippled through the air toward her. She rolled away a second too late, but the diffused magic dealt her only a glancing blow, leaving a slight numbing sensation.

Thankfully, they had Walhart outnumbered pretty badly this time. But as Walhart kicked his undead steed forward and the Shepherds scattered to avoid the sweeping blows, they remembered just how difficult it was to bring this powerful foe down before. Morgan had spotted the engagement and flown overhead, quickly calling for those on the ground to focus on eliminating the other riders, as she herself attempted to bypass the Conqueror's seemingly impenetrable armor. A lightning bolt was quickly sponged up by the armor, indicating that its magic shielding was still active despite the damage the armor sustained. Morgan followed it with a blast from Valflame, hoping the magic would be strong enough to penetrate. Most of the energy was still negated, but the remaining flames were enough to make the Conqueror flinch and come to a halt.

Chrom, remembering the way Robin had dismounted the Conqueror before, immediately stepped to the side of the mount, and spotting the gap in the armor still, swung at the opening. His axe bit into the undead steed, even as Walhart tried to move away, and the steed crumbled away, leaving Walhart to tumble onto a pile of horse armor. The risen recovered almost instantly, but the Shepherds were on him in a flash, hoping to bring him down before the mages could arrive.

Even as the Conqueror collapsed, overwhelmed by strength in numbers, a devastating wave of fire and lighting gushed out. The Shepherds fled from the barrage. Kellam had also taken a dose of pure water, and along with Chrom, Lucina, and Frederick, escaped the barrage mostly unharmed. But many of the others suffered stinging burns as they tried to regroup to launch their own, coordinated offensive.

* * *

><p>Across from them, on the other side of the mountainous divide, Virion quickly realized that the risen foot soldiers they faced were going to be more troublesome than Morgan had anticipated. Leading the risen was the master swordsman, Yen'fay, and this time, the swordsman wouldn't be going easy on them.<p>

Lon'qu was up to the challenge though, and pulled forth his own swords. Flavia initially meant to help, but thought better of it immediately, seeing the speed and precision with which the two swordsmen fought. Instead, Flavia rushed to meet the next of the risen, a heavily armored, bald risen man with an impressive mustache and beard. Cervantes met her charge willingly, but the veteran Feroxi warrior easily outfought the lumbering general, scoring hit after hit against his heavy armor.

Another former general approached Flavia from the other side, but this warrior's armor was incomplete. Virion recognize the noble General Mustafa and winced, but that did not stop him from putting Yewfelle to use, sending arrow after arrow into the risen. Like all the risen, Mustafa did not bleed, and simply collapsed to the ground and crumbled to ash after the fifth arrow came to a rest in his withered torso.

Then a bolt of lightning struck Virion, throwing him from his steed, and wounding the horse in the process. Before Virion could even search for his attacker, Lissa reacted with her rescue staff, pulling Virion away just in time to avoid a second bolt, as Gangrel, the late Mad King of Plegia took to the field, carrying a brand new Levin sword. Severa and Owain stepped forward to face him, though neither recognized him. Both were eyeing his sword carefully, recognizing it to be of the same make as Anna's magical blade.

For some time, Severa and Owain kept themselves away, nimbly side-stepping the magical flurry as they closed in and flanked the nimble risen. Gangrel then began fighting conventionally, but was no match for either of his opponents. After only a few exchanges, the risen turned to flee, hoping to put some distance between him and his foes so that he could safely use the magical properties of his blade.

Owain rushed to intercept him. "Be gone, fiend!" Owain roared dramatically, as his blade neatly cut through Gangrel's waist.

Behind them, Flavia continued her relentless assault against Cervantes, until finally, she managed to land a direct blow to his skull, taking a light blow on the arm in return. She thought it a rather favorable trade as the armor crumpled where it stood, the body turning to dust. Beside her, the duel between Lon'qu and Yen'fay came to an abrupt end, as Yen'fay was distracted by a clever feint, and with impossible speed, Lon'qu spun his fine sword in a wide arc, decapitating his undead opponent.

The other lesser risen following had been cleaned up thoroughly by the other Shepherds standing near, and soon, their gazes turned to the other side of the battlefield.

* * *

><p>Grima had one more nasty surprise waiting for the Shepherds. As the dust settled and they turned their attention to the risen mages, Chrom fell back, horrified. There were roughly a dozen of the risen in total. Most of them were mages, although two were dressed as war clerics in the service of Naga, and carried axes. Leading them was a particularly bloated figure that had only grown more grotesque in death, still wearing the red and gold robes of the Valmese Empire. Excellus leered at them unpleasantly, but it was not his unsightly face that had drawn Chrom's attention. At Excellus's side stood the undead form of Exalt Emmeryn.<p>

Despite the glowing red eyes, Emmeryn's expression was still one of peace and serenity. She clutched a staff tightly, but otherwise stood perfectly still. They had never retrieved her body. After the war, they learned that the Plegians had collected her body from where it fell, and honored her with a Plegian funeral and burial. Her grave had become a shrine, which served as a reminder of Emmeryn's love for both kingdoms, and Chrom had reluctantly agreed to allow her remains to rest in Plegia only after he saw the lasting impact his sister had left.

But Grima must have found and defiled her grave, too. Her body should have long since been reduced to bone, or dust, but like many of the risen who should have rotted away, Grima had repaired her flesh. Though her clothing was still torn, she bore none of the fatal injuries she sustained during the fall. "Emmeryn," Chrom whispered softly, his gaze locked upon his sister.

"Father!" Lucina cried, bringing him back to reality. He turned to see Excellus hurling a fireball in his direction, but the distraction had cost him. The fireball connected squarely, and it seemed as if the pure water he had imbibed was wearing off, for he surely felt the heat of the flames. Chrom threw himself back, but the shock of seeing his sister had left his body numb and uncooperative.

Lucina, too, had taken the sight of her aunt rather poorly, as the poor woman reminded Lucina of her past failures. But she had managed to keep her wits about her, and charged forward, quickly. Noting that her father's magical resistance seemed to be wearing thin, she imagined her own protection would be fading as well. She closed the distance quickly, and thrust Falchion at Excellus.

The portly risen raised and arm and caught the attack with a grunt. Lucina retracted her blade and slashed forward, but Excellus had managed to retreat away this time, and with a gesture of her staff, Emmeryn mended the wound. Lucina knew that she'd have to destroy Emmeryn first, but she was reluctant to do so, and instead managed to roll past Excellus, cutting down one of the war clerics behind him a single stroke.

The daring move had put her in a rather dangerous position, and the others turned on her immediately. Thankfully, Libra had been attentive, and Lucina was whisked away to safety. Morgan, realizing that the pure waters must have run out, entered the fray with her sword drawn, attacking them as she swooped by. Her courageous assault proved effective, and she managed to bring down two more of the mages and wound several more, including Excellus who received a near-fatal wound through the chest, narrowly missing his blackened heart. But the risen were resilient, as always, and again, the wound proved ineffectual, as Emmeryn quickly healed it.

And then Emmeryn stiffened, as Chrom drove his axe into her back, tears streaming from his eyes. "Grima!" Chrom roared, in an agonized tone, as he swiftly moved on to the next target, bringing down Excellus with two swift blows. The mages turned and blasted at Chrom, but he ignored the burns and pushed on, resisting Lissa's attempt to pull him back, as well. Thankfully, Morgan was right behind him, and the other Shepherds rushed to his aid. Together, the Shepherds quickly cleaned up the remaining mages, leaving the mountainous region silent, save for the flapping wings of the returning Pegasi.

Grima's final, sadistic stunt had done its work. Though the Shepherds marched on with conviction and a renewed determination to bring an end to his cruelty, meeting their old friends and foes had created a sense of wrongness about it all, seeding discomfort and discord in their hearts. The Shepherds regrouped and carried on in silence, mentally bracing themselves for their final battle.

* * *

><p>Even in the distance, both fell dragons had been terrifying large. Up close, the prospect of battling either of the titans was even more daunting. The Shepherds stood at the peak, the two dragons slowly circling them idly, waiting for them to make their next move.<p>

"Why do they simply wait?" Lucina asked uneasily. The Grima she had battled once never hesitated, and had always acted with impunity, clawing even buildings to oblivion and melting entire armies with torrents of deathly flames. But now, there were two fell dragons simply circling them idly.

Naga appeared amidst the Shepherds. "Grima has overexerted himself creating the risen. Even if he hadn't summoned such a vast army immediately, it would have taken at least a week or two for the fell dragons to strike with their full strength. We are fortunate to have arrived so soon. But be warned – even with a fraction of his power, Grima will be far stronger than any enemy you have ever encountered."

"Which one will we face?" Chrom asked, with a hint of trepidation. After facing Emmeryn, he was rather torn. He truly wanted to free Robin from Grima's clutches, if anything of Robin remained buried in the fell dragon's avatar. But he wasn't quite sure if he was ready to face his friend again. When they had battled Grima in Ylisstol, at least he had been able to convince himself that it was not truly his friend standing before him at all.

"The one that has recently travelled to Ylisstol will be weaker, and prove the easier target," Naga explained, gesturing towards the smaller of the two fell dragons. "The fell dragons are more intimately bound to his spirit than the avatar. Each has a weakness upon the nape of its neck. That weakness will be guarded by Grima's servants. You will have to bypass them and strike him down with Falchion. Once you have done so, both fell dragons' bodies will be destroyed, and Grima's spirit will be banished once more."

"Naga… do you know what will happen to my father? To Robin?" Morgan asked nervously.

"Grima's avatar was an empty shell, bound by the fell dragon's dark magic and brought to life by a fragment of Grima's soul. The man you knew as Robin, for all intents and purposes, no longer exists apart from Grima," Naga said, looking at Morgan with sympathy. "His soul will have long since been assimilated into Grima, returning to its source. Once Grima's spirit is banished, without the magic or soul to bind his body together, both avatars, like the fell dragons, will simply crumble away."

Morgan flinched. Behind her, Cordelia's lips grew thin, but otherwise gave no indication of what she was thinking.

"It's time," Chrom decided. The short rest they had must suffice, Chrom knew, for the longer they waited, the longer the shadows of despair over their own hearts grew. Fear, anger, and grief swirled within each of them, and they could not steep themselves in it forever. It was time to act.

"Indeed," Lucina agreed. "Milady, please send us on our way. One way or another, this ends here."

Naga nodded regally. "Very well. I wish you the best. I will remain with you and assist however I can. I only wish I could do more."

"You have given us more than we could ever ask for," Lucina assured. Soft, green light emitted from Naga, enveloping all of the Shepherds and their mounts. The light blinded them, and they felt a calling. A divine force guiding them to their destination.

To their purpose.


	11. Chapter 9: The Wings of Despair

**Chapter 9: The Wings of Despair**

The light faded away, as did the warm, comforting feeling that had accompanied it. The Shepherds felt their solid footing, and with a quick glance around, realized immediately that the magic had worked, and that they were now standing atop of the fell dragon's back. And before them, less than twenty paces away, stood Grima's avatar, grinning confidently.

The Shepherds looked around quickly, reorienting themselves. Something was horribly wrong, Morgan realized. But before she could place it, or voice her nagging doubts, Grima struck.

"WRETCHED SONS OF NAGA! YOU WILL BE DESTROYED!"

The dragon's voice, the primal strength that echoed Robin's, was stronger than ever before, nearly drowning out the man entirely. The Shepherds braced themselves immediately, but little did it matter. The vessel hovered into the air, cataclysmic dark energy surging forth from his suspended form. Experimentally, Virion loosed an arrow in an attempt to disrupt him, and Morgan unleashed a blast of Valflame. But neither steel nor fire left even a mark, and the emanating darkness gathered above them, forming a cloud, which then shifted into a smaller image of the fell dragon itself. As it took shape, the dragon plummeted, with an ear-splitting shriek. Some of the Shepherds standing at the point of impact managed to dive aside, but most had their hands clasped to their ears, desperately trying to block out the bloodcurdling noise.

"Despair descends upon you! Welcome oblivion!" the avatar roared, as the image dissolved upon impact into an inky pool, spreading impossibly fast across the dragon's back, until all of the Shepherds stood ankle deep in the shadow. Each of them felt an apprehensive shudder, as if knowing something awful was about to happen. Mere heartbeats later, an enormous cracking noise sounded, as suddenly the darkness erupted from the ground in the form of tens of thousands of long, narrow spikes.

All of the Shepherds screamed out in agony, as the spikes bore deeply into them, striking not their flesh but their very souls. The spell was over in an instant, and the Shepherds collapsed, feeling as if their insides were burning and withering away. Grima began to laugh, a cruel, grating noise to mock his feeble challengers.

"W-What… what manner of magic…" Chrom huffed, barely able to breath, as he struggled futilely to regain his footing.

"M-Magic?" Basilio stammered. "That… that was… a damned catastrophe," the normally indomitable khan barely managed to sputter.

"It… it can't end like this," Frederick protested feebly, as he, too, tried to force himself back to his feet to no avail. "I… won't have… all our struggle… be for naught…"

"This darkness," Lucina whispered, as tears of despair formed in her eyes. She had seen the wrath of Grima unleashed before, and knew this battle was over. They had failed Naga. Despite their preparations, their haste, and their determination to see this through, they simply had not the strength. "The future is upon us… gods… F-Father…"

"What comfort do your petty bonds bring you now, pathetic humans?" Grima taunted. They could faintly make out Robin's teasing tone, but the words seemed so horribly wrong, so cruelly out-of-place, and the resonating echo only amplified the dread in their hearts. "You have all thrown your lives away, and for what?"

"We're… we're not dead yet!" Morgan proclaimed, forcing herself to her feet, despite the pain.

Grima turned to her, and to everyone's surprise, his eyes, Robin's eyes, widened in shock. But then Grima began to laugh once more, and Morgan had a vague feeling that things were about to get even worse, if that were even possible. "Morgan! I thought I spied you among these fools in the Dragon's Table. I suppose you're right, sweetheart. It's about time I got you all off my back, so to speak. Permanently."

"No!" Morgan cried, drawing her tome. She fell into a state of extreme concentration, drawing as much power as she could from Valflame, feeding as much of her own magical strength into the blast. Sparkling magenta flames, sparkling and shimmering with a life of its own, erupted around Morgan. As she extended her palm outwards, the magically inspired flames rushed forward, coating the fiery orange-red bolt she shot forth. The spell hit its mark, and erupted into the largest magical explosion any of the Shepherds had ever witnessed. Waves of heat and wind rushed out over them all.

When the last of the flames died away, the avatar was revealed, standing evenly on the dragon's back once more. He was trembling slightly, though it was unclear whether it was from pain or anger. "You disappoint me," Grima hissed lividly, and he gestured forward. A shadow burst forth from his hand, falling as a shroud might over all of the Shepherds, pinning them to the ground. The darkness continued to spill forth, and soon surrounded all of them. It was as if the world itself had abandoned them, leaving them alone in the darkness to face Grima.

Lucina, pinned down with the others, knew it was over. Falchion still gleamed with inner light, even brighter than before now that it felt Grima so close. They were only a thousand feet from their goal, a trivial distance compared to their journey through time and across continents, but now, even that had been stripped from them. She could not even find the strength to stand, now, let alone fight her way past Grima's avatar. Around her, the Shepherds all entertained similar thoughts, as their hearts were steeped in despair.

Then, a voice sounded out. Again, Morgan had forced her way through the shroud, forced herself to stand despite her own suffering, despite the fact that Grima still wore her father's flesh as his own, and Lucina's despair gave way to shame and guilt. How could Morgan find the strength to fight on, when she could not?

"Don't give up!" Morgan cried desperately. "We can't give up! We can't afford to lose!"

Grima laughed at her desperate plea. Around Morgan, the Shepherds stirred, their vigor renewed as they fought against the dark, ghostly bindings, but Grima seemed unconcerned. "Your loyalty is quite touching, sweetheart. How long have you even known these friends of yours?"

"I may have lost my memories, but it doesn't matter!" Morgan said fiercely. "Even if I came from a different timeline. Even if I don't truly know where I came from. The Morgan my friends knew died standing up to you. I won't give in, either!"

Grima howled with laughter. "Is that what they told you, sweetheart? I had no idea your friends were such cunning liars!" He turned his wicked gaze, resting it upon Severa and Lucina, who were next to each other, still struggling with the cursed shroud enveloping them. "Severa, dear, how could you deceive your own little sister so?" Upon seeing his gaze, and hearing his accusations, Severa froze.

"Severa, don't listen to him," Lucina pleaded, as she continued to struggle weakly.

"You hypocrites," Grima said, with a smug grin, now eyeing Lucina. "If you cannot find it in your own hearts to tell Morgan the truth, I suppose I shall have to enlighten her."

"NO!" Severa cried out in protest. "No, no, no!" she cried.

"Save it!" Morgan spat at the mocking caricature of her father angrily. "I'm not listening to your twisted words!"

"I suppose they are twisted," Grima said wickedly. "Perhaps you should ask your dear sister instead. Ask her who truly slew the Morgan of her world. Ask her who it was, who pierced your pretty little heart with your own mother's beloved lance."

Morgan froze as the words sunk in. Despite her claims to the contrary, she heard the words, and they struck more painfully than any lance ever could have. "No…" she sputtered. "Liar! You're lying!" Morgan spun, her gaze meeting Severa, who could only stare at her in horror, tears pouring from her eyes. "Severa, tell me he's lying!" Morgan pleaded desperately.

"Morgan…" Severa said softly, although she could form no other words. With a sinking feeling in her heart, Morgan watched as Severa desperately averted her gaze, avoiding eye contact, trembling in terror.

Morgan, now wearing an expression of stunned disbelief, turned to face Grima again, a pleading look in her eyes. Grima met her stare, his own eyes full of malice. "You're a clever girl. You know the truth when you hear it," he said. Though the horrid echo still sounded, his tone now sounded consoling and almost gentle.

After several long moments, Morgan could only form a single word. "Why?" she managed to ask, at last, her voice hoarse.

"Because, sweetheart, you and your friends have misconstrued me from the start. That wretched Naga has filled your minds with lies," Grima stated calmly. "I have no interest in destroying the world. What good would that do anyone? I bring destruction, yes. But in destruction lies the seeds of rebirth. A new order that is to my liking. I meddle. I bring pain and suffering. But so did Naga. Was it not Naga, who condoned the crusade you now call the First Plegian War, to destroy those who would not bend knee to her in worship? And the Conqueror's war was fought in Naga's name and for Naga's purpose too, was it not? Perhaps Walhart strayed from her teachings of peace, but in the end, his objective was the same as hers."

Morgan looked at him blankly, not understanding how any of this was relevant.

Grima smiled, a gentle, kind smile that all the Shepherds who had known Robin for so long knew too well. "Your father isn't gone, Morgan. Your father and I are one and the same. His spirit was part of mine, a part that I have brought back into myself. But his memories remain. Once this is over, I can give them back to him. My essence is expansive enough that I would not miss a fraction of it."

"What!?" Morgan gasped.

"Now you understand," Grima said, still smiling. "Join with me, Morgan. Help me end this war. I can forgive your transgressions. I can grant your friends mercy. Even those who fight me to the end, who force me to destroy them… well, you've read about quintessence, haven't you? The arts are not yet lost. I can bring them all back, Morgan, and give them all a place in our new world. You can have your peace, your beloved mother and father and sister beside you."

"Morgan, don't listen to him, please!" Severa said. "He's lying to you. You know it!"

"How dare you!?" Grima suddenly roared, turning to Severa. "The entire time you've known her, you've kept the truth from her! She was your sister, and you killed her! And you never even told her of her real fate, and you would accuse me of lying!?"

Severa flinched, but did not falter. "I'm sorry, Morgan!" Severa cried out, tears streaming down her face. "I had to! He turned you against us! I was only trying to stop you!"

"I did not turn anyone," Grima said with a smug smile. He turned back to Morgan. "I know you, Morgan. I have his memories. I know you loved your father. I know you'd do anything to have him back. And I promise you, it will cost you nothing. Unlike Naga, unlike your friends, I do not need to lie. Your father's body still stands vigil on the back of the other fell dragon. I may need my strength now. I may need _him_ right now. But that will not last forever."

Morgan's eyes shined with her inner struggles, as her gaze swept over her companions.

"Morgan, please," Chrom gasped weakly. His strength had failed him at last, and his struggling had ceased. He laid there, pinned and unmoving.

Severa was still sobbing. "Morgan… I didn't want to do it… I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please, believe me!" Morgan finally understood Severa's unease in the halls of the shrine on Mount Prism. Severa had been reliving not only Morgan's death, but her own guilt.

Morgan searched for her mother. She wanted to hear her mother's voice once more, to let Cordelia's kind and soothing words ease the turmoil within her. But with a pang, she remembered the odd feeling she had had earlier, when they first arrived upon the fell dragon's back, and only now realized its source.

Cordelia wasn't even here. In their final moment upon the peak, Cordelia's courage had failed her, and the broken woman must have resisted Naga's calling altogether.

Cordelia had abandoned Morgan, leaving her to stand alone between the Shepherds and Grima. Standing between the companions who had once killed her, and those who would seek to destroy the fell dragon. To destroy her father.

"Morgan, you can't listen to him. You can't put your trust in him," Lucina wheezed, still struggling with the veil holding her.

Morgan turned to Grima. "You made me this offer before, didn't you?"

"I did," Grima admitted. "I apologize – I could not keep my promise to you that time, Morgan. Your friends escaped after killing you, and I had no choice but to pursue them. I have regretted my failure ever since." As he spoke, the fell dragon's primal echo diminished. He spoke with sincerity, and his words and demeanor were so much like Robin's that Morgan's eyes grew misty.

"That time… I didn't even know my father, right?" Morgan asked quietly.

"Correct," Grima affirmed. "Your parents left when you were but a child. The father you worshipped was merely a legend to you… but not this time. This time, you knew your father. You loved him, and you knew his love for you."

The confusion died away. Morgan looked at her sister, confidence in her eyes, and Severa shuddered, for it was the same look of determination she had seen from Morgan on that fateful day in Mount Prism. "No… please, Morgan," Severa begged.

But Morgan understood now. She knew why Lucina, Cynthia, and Severa had all eyed her with shock and fear the day they met. She knew why Owain, Inigo, and Brady had been terrified of her, and why Brady's suspicion had never quite lifted.

Morgan ignored her sister's pleas and turned to Lucina, who met her gaze with horror. The prone woman had finally yielded to Grima's power, after all her struggles, and laid there, knowing her strength was at its end, too. Falchion, their one last hope of victory, had slipped from her grasp, and the glow faded. Only Lucina had undertaken the Awakening. Only in her hands did it hold the power to defeat Grima.

"I'm sorry, Lucina," Morgan said quietly, as she carefully drew Eternity, and calmly walked towards the fallen princess. Thoughts of Robin flooded Morgan's mind as she closed in. Dreams of the peace that Robin had fought for, had died for. Dreams that Grima had promised to fulfill. Grima watched eagerly, his face alit with undisguised, sadistic glee.

Morgan took a deep breath, and Lucina knew it was all over. The strongest of them, the only one to have escaped Grima's crippling touch, had turned against them. She was about to die, and with her, humanity's last hope.

Eternity flashed downwards, neatly severing the veil that bound Lucina to the ground. In the same fluid motion, Morgan drew her staff, and healing magic washed over Lucina. "Call to Naga!" Morgan cried.

Grima and Lucina were both momentarily stunned. But Lucina recovered first, as Morgan cast Eternity aside and clasped the princess's hand, helping her to her feet. Lucina reclaimed Falchion immediately, as Grima howled in protest. "Stop!" Grima roared. "You can't do this, Morgan! You've abandoned him!"

Falchion lifted into the air, glowing once more with inner light, and Naga appeared before them. A bright, golden light shined from Lucina's pocket, and Lucina drew forth Naga's Tear, the relic Morgan had retrieved from the hall where she had been reunited with her father. The divine light washed over them all, purging away the last of the shadow, and seeping into them, mending their torn souls. "Children of man, take what remains of my power!" Naga pronounced, as all of the Shepherds felt their strength return. "Rise now, and face the fell dragon!"

And then Naga was gone, as was the tear-shaped, golden jewel. As was the darkness. The Shepherds stood, facing Grima, who was shaking with anger. "Why!?" Grima protested, glaring at Morgan.

"Because I knew my father, this time," Morgan retorted, in a defiant tone. "Maybe his soul was yours. But he must have found something more, because my father would _never_ have tried to destroy our world just so he could build a new one. And he would never have forgiven me if I had helped you do it."

"I am your father, you foolish girl!" Grima screamed. "Any light that Robin found, any of the petty bonds he forged, are nothing compared to me!"

"Maybe he wasn't as strong as you are," Morgan conceded, as Severa rushed to her side, clasping her brave little sister's hand tightly. "But that's why we treasure those invisible ties he spoke of. Because we find our strength together!"

"You are all powerless!" Grima roared. "Frail! Insignificant! You are nothing!" A rift appeared, swallowing Grima, and whisking him across the dragon's back. He stepped out at the nape of the dragon's neck, his face a mask of hatred. All around the dragon, risen and entombed began to appear, seemingly out of thin air, moving to block the Shepherds. Half a dozen of the shadowy, demonic six-eyed skeletons, like the one he had set upon them in Ylisstol, hovered around him.

"I. AM. GRIMA!" the avatar roared, and the fell dragon they rode upon echoed the cry. "I AM DESPAIR! I AM THE END!"

"I lost to you once, monster!" Lucina cried back defiantly. "I shall not lose again!" She charged, sprinting across the field.

"This is the end for you, Grima!" Chrom cried, as he followed suit. Following his rallying cry, the Shepherds charged down the field.

* * *

><p>When Morgan had firmly swore her allegiance, despite Grima's attempt to manipulate her, the Shepherds thought it was over. This was the window they needed, the opening to reach Grima and strike him down with Falchion, and bring an end to this all-too-real nightmare. But it was only the beginning.<p>

A swarm of risen rushed to block their path, and their advanced halted almost entirely as they met them in battle, blades drawn. "He's trying to buy time!" Morgan cried out, as the fighting began. "He must have used the rest of his power already! We have to cut through!"

Some of the risen hung back and began to fling magic into the fray, some of their attacks even striking their own allies. But the assault proved effective nonetheless, and suddenly, Lucina found herself wishing they had reserved the pure water. Cynthia and Sumia shot overhead, bypassing the front line and trying to bring down the mages. But they had time to bring down but one of the mages each, before the demonic skeletons fell over them, swarming them. The creatures were as fast as their Pegasi and many times stronger, and soon, both Pegasus knights fell back. Cherche tried to meet one head-on, and Minerva fought valiantly. Cherche's axe chipped at it, and Minerva's claws sundered a part of its rib cage, but the powerful abomination struck back hard, and Minerva faltered back, huge gashes along her torso. Libra's healing magic fell over the wounded wyvern, but Cherche knew better than to try to engage the demonic skeleton that way again.

Morgan, meanwhile, had climbed aboard Catria and soared into the air as well. Valflame struck one of the demonic skeletons, engulfing it in powerful flames. The creature seemed resistant to the burns, but it still faltered under the attack. Before the others could move in to protect it, Morgan struck it again with Eternity as she swooped by, then banked hard and fled, as well. The blow had shattered one of its creature's arms, shards of obsidian bone showering the Shepherds and risen below, before crumbling away.

The risen and entombed were no match for the skilled Shepherds, who tore through their ranks with ease. But the waves of enemies were seemingly endless, and the wall of undead flesh before them only grew thicker as Grima's minions threatened to overwhelm them in numbers alone. Still, the Shepherds were undaunted.

Grima had threatened them with yet another tragedy, Lucina realized. Every one of her friends was fighting with all of their remaining strength, standing firmly with courage and might that would inspire fear in any mortal foe. Even Walhart himself would have trembled at the sight of Basilio cleaving three of the risen apart in a single swing, or Lon'qu, a mere blur of steel as he moved and attacked with inhuman speed and precision. Her father fought with his head held high, despite all that Grima had taken from him, and his own axe felled foe after foe, an immovable presence that obliterated any risen who approached.

Nowi and Tiki were both transformed, and along with Cynthia and Sumia, were performing a deadly aerial dance, despite the superior strength of the demonic skeletons facing them. Ice and javelins met torrents of black fire, and still they persisted, refusing to accept their fate, ready to fight until their very last breath. Olivia and Inigo, both who would sooner be performers than warriors, entered the fray without hesitation, their graceful footwork and swordplay inspiring those beside them to new heights of power. Behind his family, Virion loosed arrow after arrow into the horde, each arrow finding its mark and dropping another risen.

Plegian and Ylissean mages alike were unleashing every bit of magic they still had. Wind, fire, lightning, and even dark magic ripped into the risen ranks, blasting them away. Frederick, Sully, and Stahl remained mobile, refusing to let the risen impede their paths as they trampled down the foes standing before them.

Every Shepherd was fighting as only heroes of legend could. Knights, warriors, farmers, mercenaries, thieves, merchants, dancers, or nobles. No matter what they once were, now, they were the last champions of mankind that stood before this threat. And if they failed today, it was a story that would die here with them.

But still, the risen continued approaching endlessly. Refusing to let fatigue wear away at them and get the best of them, the Shepherds fought. Some sang, some shouted war cries, and some fought in silence, but not a single one of them was willing to falter.

"Lucina!" Morgan cried, as the three Pegasus knights returned to Lucina's side. "We can't fight through them! There's too many!" Above, Tiki and Nowi were still battling the demonic skeletons. Through their combined efforts, they had destroyed three of them but the other nine remained, and the two Manaketes were sorely pressed.

Lucina wanted to send Morgan, Cynthia, and Sumia back to the aerial battle, to stand by Tiki and Nowi who were clearly being overwhelmed. But she heard the truth in Morgan's words. After quickly disemboweling the three risen standing before her, Lucina ran to Cynthia's side. Severa followed suit, joining Morgan aboard Catria, and Chrom rushed toward Sumia. The three Pegasi took off immediately, carefully swerving around the flying fiends and staying out of range of any stray arrows from the risen, then soared down towards the dragon's head.

Towards the nape of the dragon's neck, where Grima's avatar awaited.

* * *

><p>Five of the remaining demonic skeletons had turned and given chase, so immediately after Lucina, Chrom, and Severa leapt down to confront Grima, the three Pegasi took off again, squaring off against their pursuers.<p>

Cynthia was the first to strike. Neatly spiraling around one charging foe, she targeted a one-armed fiend that she immediately recognized as the one Morgan had landed a blow against earlier. The creature swerved and instinctively tried to retaliate with its missing arm. Unobstructed, Cynthia's lance hit its mark, striking and shattering the skeleton's sternum. She retreated quickly as the skeleton shattered, its draconic skull tumbling as its wings simply fell apart, the shards of bone plummeting downwards and crumbling away.

That left them three against four. Though Morgan had clearly inherited her mother's gift with Pegasi, she was at a severe disadvantage, as their opponents used their long reach to keep Morgan from closing in with her sword. Most Pegasus knights favored lances for a reason, as the longer weapons were easier to use in flight, and allowed the Pegasus to try to remain a safe distance. Her small, lithe frame lacked the physical strength her mother and father possessed, but she was determined to press on nonetheless. Again and again, Morgan called forth flames from her tome to distract the creatures before closing in to strike, then retreating quickly before the inevitable raging counterattack. But the remaining four skeletons were in good condition, and she did little more than chip at them.

As Sumia flew pass, thrusting her lance at an approaching foe defensively to keep it back, she couldn't help but reflect upon her first meeting with Caeda. "I'm sorry, girl," Sumia whispered apologetically as she swept by. Sumia had never set out to become a Pegasus knight. It was fortune alone that brought her and Caeda together, and though she loved her friend dearly, it was her fault that Caeda was here, battling creatures far beyond her.

Two of her, in fact, for in Cynthia's timeline, Caeda had returned to Ylisstol and sought out Cynthia upon Sumia's death. The loyal steed was as much a Shepherd as any of them, Sumia realized. And right now, that meant fighting against any foe, paying any price, to protect Severa, Chrom, and Lucina as they challenged the fell dragon's avatar. Sumia soared past the skeletal abominations, striking them again and again, and wishing she was stronger, that her blows would do more than chip at the creatures.

But those chips and cracks the three Pegasus knights laid upon the skeletons were building up, Sumia realized, when one of her thrusts sent the lance cutting straight through the rib cage, tearing through two of the bones. The creature jolted, and the spearhead snagged on the inside of its ribcage. As Sumia swerved away, she dragged the skeleton with her, slamming it into another one and entangling the two. Cynthia dived from above, her lance piercing one of their skulls, and the skeleton fell apart.

The other one had finally torn itself free of Sumia's lance, but it was ragged and torn, several bones disjointed and hanging limply. But before Sumia could react, it lunged forward once more, its claws finding Caeda. The Pegasus screech in pain, and Sumia hastily extracted herself from the fight, trying to land smoothly before one of the pursuers could put a permanent end to them both. The wounded skeleton tried to do exactly that, but Morgan struck first, Eternity swiftly decapitating the skeleton from behind.

Morgan's brave action saved Sumia's life, but it left Cynthia alone, and in a dire predicament, flanked by the two remaining fiends. Both of them rushed in, cleverly pinning her between them. Cynthia tried to dive away, just barely escaping the reach of their claws, but the sharp, bony wings caught her as she fled, tearing through the girl's right pauldron and ripping into the back of her arm. With a cry of pain, Cynthia nearly tumbled from Caeda, and the lance that she and her mother had built together fell from her grasp. The skeleton's wings caught the lance as it fell by, casting it off the edge of the fell dragon altogether.

Cynthia knew she was in no condition to fight on, with her weapon arm crippled and her weapon lost. She feebly, defiantly, hurled her last javelin with her off-hand, then guided Caeda aside, clear of the battle, leaving Morgan to face the remaining two skeletons alone.

* * *

><p>"Arrogant mortals!" Grima's avatar bellowed, as the three challengers drew near. He gestured angrily towards them. Chrom, Lucina, and Severa all lost their footing, as the dragon writhed. Behind them, the same had happened to the risen and the Shepherds still battling them. It wasn't a large movement, just a tiny tremor. The fell dragon's serpentine neck curved around, bringing its draconic visage face-to-face with its challengers. "Your time has expired!" he declared.<p>

The wyrm's jaws opened wide, and a torrent of black fire gushed forth. Chrom, Lucina, and Severa all dove aside, the murderous flames licking at their heels. They were back on their feet in a flash, as Grima's maw snapped out, narrowly missing Lucina who leapt away agilely.

Lucina then rolled past the extended maw as the dragon's head pulled back, and charged straight at Grima's avatar, aiming to sink her blessed weapon through his heart. Grima reacted with the reflexes and skill of an expert swordsman, a burst of black lightning erupting from his hand and crystallizing into a sword that seemed to be forged from some sort of glassy, dark metal, a leaf-bladed weapon with a hilt shaped like the leathery wings of a dragon.

Grima had all of Robin's skill and training, Chrom realized in horror. Though Robin hadn't been quite as strong as Chrom, his clever and methodical swordplay with a unique blend of various styles gave Robin the edge over every Shepherd, and he had been hailed as the greatest warrior in Ylisse, with good reason. Severa leapt to Lucina's aid, but with Robin's skill backed by Grima's might, neither girl could land a hit on the master swordsman.

Severa, like her mother, was faster than Robin, and tried to capitalize upon her speed and range. But Robin was no stranger to dueling lancers after countless hours of sparring with Cordelia. Guided by Robin's extensive experience, Grima battered at Severa's lance, disrupting her aim and forcing her back with precise thrusts of his own. Lucina tried to divert his attention, and was successful momentarily, until a powerful parry and counterattack almost sent Falchion spinning from her grasp. Lucina fell away, clinging to the weapon desperately.

Chrom then rushed into the fray, but Grima was ready. He sidestepped the downwards stroke of Chrom's axe, putting Chrom between him and Severa, then struck with inhuman speed, his blade cutting wide, sweeping arcs with deadly precision.

"Your future has been eclipsed!" Grima roared triumphantly. Chrom, to his credit, managed to deflect the first three cuts, but the fourth bit into his shoulder, and the fifth stabbed into his thigh. Grima retracted his blade and prepared to finish the prince for good, when Lucina's charge turned him away, giving Chrom just enough time to stagger away and hope that Lissa, Libra, or Brady was watching with their magical healing staves at the ready.

Lucina had gained the upper hand, for once, and was determined to press her advantage. But the advantage was lost a moment later, as Grima's draconic head reared back, and belched another torrent of devastating fire. Lucina, threw herself aside only just in time. Even so, the flames caught her leg as she dived past. The dark flames flickered, and there was no searing heat, only pain, for the magical fire struck directly at her soul. Lucina stumbled away, her entire body tingling, her legs numb and footing unsteady.

Behind Grima's avatar, Severa rushed forward, lance extended. Grima spun to meet her advance, deflecting the blow, as a sphere of dark energy gathered in his other hand. As Severa pulled away, a small jagged black dart, made of the same magical material as Grima's sword, spiraled through the air as an arrow might. But the projectile was thrown way too high, and soared over Severa. "Your aim is terrible," Severa remarked dryly, as she jabbed her lance forward again. Grima backed away, laughing.

"Really? Look again, dear," Grima teased cruelly. Severa's eyes narrowed at first, wondering whether Grima truly believed her to be foolish enough to turn away. But then she remembered the battle raging behind her, and she turned anyways, with a sinking feeling in her heart.

* * *

><p>"Think, Morgan, think!" Morgan instructed herself harshly. "How would Dad handle this?"<p>

With Sumia and Cynthia down, Morgan was left facing the last two of the demonic skeletons alone. Even though both had been injured, they matched her speed and maneuverability, and far outstripped her strength. And while it would take several blows for her to bring one down, either one could likely finish her in a single solid hit.

Morgan could almost hear her father's voice, cool and confident as he relayed the basics of strategy or swordplay or magic to her, as if they were reading together under a tree, or sparring in an open field. "Use their strength against them," Morgan decided quickly, and swooped forward to meet them. She approached cautiously, knowing she couldn't allow them to strike her. But she attempted to replicate Cynthia's predicament from before, baiting the two skeletons to flank her. Cynthia's error was hesitation, Morgan knew.

After several passes where none of the duelists could score a decisive hit, the two skeletons finally rose to the bait, soaring up on opposite sides of their prey. As they positioned themselves to attack, Morgan immediately dove downward, unleashing her last cast of Valflame as she went. The two skeletons dived after her, but, blinded by the flames, they could not correct their course to pursue, and instead careened into one another.

Morgan pulled out of her dive and sped upward, spiraling around and bringing Eternity down hard against one of the tangled foes, scattering the creature's pitch-black vertebrae. The other creature untangled itself as its companion crumbled, but before it could reorient itself, Eternity cleanly separated its skull from its body, and Morgan went into another dive, cheering excitedly.

Then a surge of pain shot through her, and she tumbled from Catria's back, falling over twenty feet to the dragon's back below. Numbly, she realized she had been hit, and just before she hit the fell dragon's back and lost consciousness, she noticed the hilt of a black knife protruding from beneath her arm, the blade cutting through her robes, reaching for her heart.

* * *

><p>"MORGAN!" Severa screamed, as she turned just in time to see the younger girl crash to the ground. Severa sprinted towards her sister desperately, her heart driving her on even as her mind protested. She knew she was leaving Lucina to face Grima alone, and she knew she was abandoning a severely wounded Chrom, but she did not care. She could not watch her sister die again.<p>

Morgan was laying on her back, the wind knocked out of her, eyes staring glassily upwards as Severa skidded to her side. "Morgan, no!" Severa cried desperately.

To her immediate relief, Morgan's eyes turned and met her gaze. "S-Severa?" Morgan said weakly.

Seeing that her sister was alive and still breathing, Severa immediately grasped the projectile embedded in her side and pulled it free, squeezing tightly with her other hand to stem the bleeding. Morgan gasped in pain. Severa cast the cursed weapon aside, which crumbled to dust as soon as it left her hands, and drew forth a healing concoction, forcing the liquid down Morgan's throat, praying to whatever gods remained that the potion would do its work.

Morgan coughed and sputtered. "F-Father… w-will I see you again?" she whispered. She smiled, then, as the ghostly image of her father appeared behind Severa, smiling proudly at her.

Morgan closed her eyes and laid still. Severa froze in horror. "Morgan? Morgan!" Severa protested, grabbing her sister and shaking her slightly, as her world came crashing down around her once more. "Morgan! You can't die on me! Not here! Not now!" Severa's arms grew weak, and a moment later, she could hardly feel herself breath. The world seemed to waver, and Morgan's body seemed to shimmer.

No, not shimmer, Severa realized. Morgan was still breathing. Morgan was still alive. All the fatigue and pain, the feelings that had drifted away from Severa in her moment of fear, rushed back to her, and she gently set Morgan down, knowing that the only thing she could do for her sister now was to finish this battle quickly.

* * *

><p>With Severa rushing to Morgan's side, and her father lying nearby, severely wounded and thoroughly beaten, Lucina knew she was alone. Alone and outmatched. Still, she fought on valiantly, refusing to give in. Every lesson her father had given her, in this timeline or the other, flowed through her mind. Every moment of courage they had found, every happy memory, stoked her heart. Perfectly measured parries met each of Grima's attacks, and her carefully angled counterattacks drove Grima back.<p>

"Your struggles are futile," Grima remarked, his teasing tone gone, having long since grown tired of the banter. "Your hopes are dead."

"Hope will never die!" Lucina shouted defiantly. She rushed forward, pulling her right arm back, her blade held low. Grima, expecting Lucina to chop upwards, presented his sword horizontally in a defensive pose that would allow him to easily counter the attack.

With all her strength, Lucina called out to Falchion itself, and hurled the blade skyward, the blade spinning powerfully and splintering Grima's sword. As Severa turned to watch, and as Chrom looked on, terrified for his daughter and their future, Grima's eyes were drawn to the silhouette of Falchion, spinning through the air. Lucina leapt powerfully into the air, catching Falchion's hilt precisely, and brought it downwards in a brutal slash. Grima tried to back away, but the daring move had taken him by surprise, and the blade caught him on the chest as he tried to retreat. Falchion cut through his armor and defensive magic, coming to a rest in his lower torso.

The avatar staggered away, wearing an expression of disbelief, and began to crumble. Lucina felt her heart skip a beat. They had done it. Grima was beaten. All that remained was to turn and plunge Falchion into the nape of the wyrm's neck.

"Lucina! Watch out!" Severa cried, alarmed.

Lucina knew she should dive aside. She knew that she should heed her best friend's warnings, and began to do just that. But her reflexes betrayed her, and as she moved, she slowed long enough to glance forward.

The visage of the fell dragon met her. Another torrent of black fire gushed forth, enveloping the princess, who had been a second too late to avoid it. She stumbled through the cursed flames, her soul alight with the dark energies, and tumbled to the floor, Falchion falling from her grasp, as the fell dragon cried out, reveling in his victory.


	12. Chapter 10: The Recusant

**Chapter 10: The Recusant**

"I'm sorry, Severa. I'm sorry, Morgan," Cordelia whispered, as Naga's light enveloped them, beckoning them forward to their battle with Grima. Severa's assurances rang discordantly in her mind. Cordelia wanted to believe her daughter. She wanted to believe in her own strength, even though reality was determined to show her otherwise.

She tore herself away from Naga's grasp, knowing that her own course lay elsewhere. Cordelia knew that she would be doomed, knew that her path was one of foolish hopes, but blind faith was all that the broken woman had left. "I promised," Cordelia reminded herself gently, as she climbed aboard Catria, and urged her loyal steed up to the skies.

Her own words from months ago echoed through her mind vividly, as if it had only been yesterday. "We'll come home to you. Both of us. I'll bring your daddy home, and then we'll all live together in a quiet, peaceful place," Cordelia whispered. She could still see Severa's tears, that day in the mercenary fortress. Demanding that her parents promise that they would never leave her again. "I promise," Cordelia repeated, her words from that day, speaking for herself and her husband.

She knew it was impossible. She knew that she would only die trying. But she didn't care, because all that remained for her were her promises to her daughters, and she owed it to them to refuse to give up; to struggle, to her dying breath, to keep her promises.

Despite being just over a volcano, the evening air was cool, and Cordelia felt a slight chill as she and Catria made their way towards the fell dragon. Not the dragon that the Shepherds were challenging, but the one where her Robin stood vigil, held in Grima's grasp. Though the dragons had seemed so close to the volcano's peak, they were actually still a fair distance away.

Catria was spiraling gently to gain height, and as she did so, Cordelia let her thoughts wander. She remembered the cool air of the night, brushing by her as she fled from the Ylisse-Plegia border where her knight-sisters had made their final stand, as she flew day-and-night to try to reach Prince Chrom ahead of the pursuing wyverns. She recalled the hollow feeling that she had felt after the desperate flight, when she knew she had completed her mission, but no sense of accomplishment accompanied her success. She remembered sitting by the river, her feet dipped in the cool water, trying futilely to block out the screams of her dying knight-sisters that permeated her mind.

Cordelia smiled a bit, as she thought of Robin, coming to her that night in hopes of comforting to her, but being so thoroughly lost for words, and of how she had simply keeled over from exhaustion that night, only to wake up in Robin's tent the next morning. She had been quite embarrassed when she learned from Lissa later that Robin had simply fallen asleep out in the meadow after helping her back to the camp.

As Cordelia flew, she saw Robin inviting her out in the middle of the light snowfall once more, his nervousness when he proposed to her, and their beautiful wedding the following spring. She could still see the surprise and giddiness in his face when he learned she was pregnant, and remembered their lighthearted joking about baby names.

Clutching these warm thoughts tightly, Cordelia flew on, ascending higher and higher, until at last, she rose past the dragons. On the larger dragon, at the nape of its neck where Naga claimed it had a weak point, a figure stood surrounded by its minions; a silhouette Cordelia would never fail to recognize. "Thank you, Catria," Cordelia muttered absently, stroking the Pegasus's mane gently, as she urged her steed forward.

* * *

><p>Standing atop the fell dragon's back, Grima's avatar eyed the other dragon calmly. The Shepherds were foolish to challenge him here at Origin Peak, where he was strongest, and in such small numbers. Even with Naga's blessing on their side, none of the Shepherds could come even close to harming him.<p>

The four vessels of Grima were more intimately bound than Naga or her servants knew. The four of them could share their thoughts and emotions, and as Grima imprisoned the Shepherds beneath a shroud of darkness, this avatar knew, and smiled. And when Morgan rebelliously broke free of the binding, and declared her undying loyalty to the Shepherds, disappointment at the wasted talent and potential flooded his accursed heart.

Still, even if his power had been drained in calling the risen forward and trying to break the Shepherds initially, what strength the other avatar still possessed should more than suffice in dealing with Chrom and Lucina and their pitiful allies. This avatar briefly considered trying to enter the fray, to bring this wyrm close enough that it may join the battle, but quickly deemed it unnecessary.

His keen ears picked up the flapping of a Pegasus. With a thought, he urged one of the demonic skeletons forward to greet the attacker, and he turned to face her.

"Out of my sight!" Cordelia called fiercely, audible even distantly, and to Grima's surprise, the skilled warrior faced his abomination head-on. But Cordelia had come alone, foolishly enough, and there was no threat here.

Still, he cringed as the lance he himself had given her tore through the abomination. Cordelia dove downward, the wounded creature tangled upon Passion, and she slammed the abomination upon the fell dragon's back, shattering it into a million pieces. Grima looked at her curiously, more than a little bit impressed. Still, maybe she was strong enough to destroy one of his stronger minions, but did she really hope she could take on a fell dragon and all of the minions that remained alone? And besides, Falchion and Lucina were aboard the other fell dragon. The woman could pose no threat to him.

"You're here to distract me?" Grima asked coolly, as Cordelia approached and dismounted. Cordelia's lips grew thin, as she heard the fell dragon's roar echo powerfully behind her husband's voice. "Morgan need not have bothered. My counterpart can handle all of you Shepherds easily enough."

"I came of my own accord," Cordelia said lightly, and to Grima's surprise, the woman smiled.

Grima laughed. "What would you possibly seek me out for, Cordelia? What could possibly be more important than clinging to your dear friends and children as they perish together?" he jeered.

"They won't," Cordelia replied confidently. "Lucina will win. She and the Shepherds will defeat you, and they don't need my help to do it."

"I wish you could see what I see," Grima answered, a cruel smile on his face. "Their feeble attempts are quite amusing, to be honest. Are you quite certain you don't want to rush to their side? There's still time if you would prefer to die beside them."

Cordelia turned and patted Catria. The loyal steed protested, but Cordelia was insistent. Heeding her master's command unhappily, Catria turned and soared away. "I came to talk to Robin," Cordelia explained casually, as if nothing could have been more obvious.

"You know, all those stories of you being a genius were rather exaggerated," Grima said wryly. "You still do not understand, it seems. Robin never existed. He was a part of me, the part that I have since reclaimed. And while this body looks like Robin, it was never his to begin with. I lent it to him." With that, Grima lifted the back of his hand, showing Cordelia the brand that Robin had always carried. No one had ever recognized the brand's significance, and since it held no meaning to any of them, eventually no one paid any attention to it. With a pang, Cordelia realized that it was a depiction of Grima's six-eyed visage.

"Maybe his body was yours," Cordelia conceded. "But there was something more. There was the man I fell in love with, and the man that all of us Shepherds knew and loved. And I'm sure that he was something more than a mere fragment of your soul."

Cordelia glared at Grima defiantly, who only continued to smile, clearly amused. "Robin… I know you're in there," Cordelia said insistently. "I know you can hear me. This will all be over soon. Lucina will win the day, Severa and Morgan beside her. Once it's over, Grima will be driven from our world."

"That's highly optimistic of you," Grima remarked dryly. But Cordelia ignored him.

"Once this is over, you have to break free of him," Cordelia urged. "I know you're still there, hanging on, fighting back. I know you're too strong to just give in. And when the time comes, you have to find your way back to us," Cordelia pleaded. "Please, Robin, listen to me. Promise me you'll come home."

Grima looked at her oddly for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Are you finished?" Grima asked, in the same dry tone, eyeing her with malicious amusement evident, dissonant in Robin's kind eyes.

Cordelia smiled again. "Quite," she replied evenly.

Grima sighed. "Sometimes, I really wonder how you humans lasted so long. Even now, you refuse to believe the evidence before your eyes. It actually annoys me that I had to create a human vessel at all. Some of the feelings lingered behind, you know. I still feel a distant fondness for you, though I can't imagine why. I had hoped I might be able to keep you alive, even, if only to placate the strange longing. But I doubt I could tolerate your incessant whining for long."

Cordelia said nothing, only looked at him with that infuriating, knowing smile.

"Well, at least I shall wait until the battle is ended," Grima said with a sadistic grin, his gaze returning to the other fell dragon, too far to make out the figures atop its back. But he could sense his counterpart's thoughts and confidence.

Then his expression became one of shock, as Falchion tore through the other avatar's chest. Cordelia hadn't missed the sudden change in expression. "I warned you, Grima," Cordelia said, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

Grima glared at her for a moment, then laughed. "You think you've won? I guess you were right. Lucina proved more troublesome than I imagined, in destroying the avatar that pursued her into this world. But it matters not. She is defeated. Naga has been defeated."

Grima pronounced the last words as a judge would declare a death sentence, and Cordelia closed her eyes, reminding herself not to believe his vile words, reminding herself to have faith in her friends and family.

* * *

><p>"Lucina! No!" Chrom roared, as he saw his daughter collapse. Blood still pouring from his wounds, he rushed to his prone daughter's side, but knew instantly that there was little he could do for her. She was still breathing, but only just. He felt healing magic swirling around him, and noted the same glow around his daughter, knowing that the Shepherds must have finally broken through. Still, Lucina was on the brink of death, and did not stir.<p>

He turned to face the fell dragon, which still glared at him balefully, as if daring him to act. Without hesitation, Chrom cast his axe aside, and lifted the awakened Falchion from the ground. He stepped away slowly from Lucina, not wanting his already unconscious daughter to be caught in the crossfire. Grima's cruel stare followed him.

Once he was clear, Chrom charged forward, diving as Grima opened his maw. The torrent of black flames rushed by harmlessly, and Chrom found what they had been searching for – an opening in the hard scales on Grima's back, at the nape of his neck. Chrom stood over it and raised Falchion up, then plunged it down, driving it into Grima with all his might.

A dark barrier came forth, holding the sword back. Chrom withdrew the blade and stabbed down again, and then a third time. But the sapphire flames did not pour forth, for in his hands, Falchion could not draw forth Naga's divine fury, and only in the hands of the awakener could Falchion penetrate Grima's darkness. The fell dragon swept its maw sideways, throwing Chrom and Falchion aside. Weakly, Chrom lifted his head to see that Lucina was still unconscious.

The other Shepherds had indeed finished cutting through the risen at last, but they were all weary and most of them had been wounded. Worst of all, they were looking up the dragon's head in horror, knowing that despite coming so close, they had lost. Morgan lay unconscious, as did Lucina. Neither of them would ever awaken again. "Gods…" Chrom groaned, one final prayer, as the jaws of defeat closed around them. Grima reared his head back, savoring his victory, and gathering his breath to destroy all of his foes in one torrential cataclysm.

* * *

><p>As the fell dragon's maw bashed Chrom aside, on the other fell dragon, Grima's remaining avatar grinned. "Well, that's it then," he said cheerfully. "Lucina is down. Chrom is down. Your friends have, oh, maybe thirty seconds left to live. But there's no need to grieve; I'll send you right after them." He reached down to his belt and drew Eternity, then stepped towards Cordelia. "One more round, for old time's sake?" Grima teased.<p>

Cordelia let Passion drop to her side, and closed her eyes silently, wondering if she had doomed them all by leaving them on her own foolish errand. Wondering if perhaps things would have been different, if she had stayed by the Shepherds, and had been there to protect Lucina. She heard Grima approach, and the soft whisper of his cloak as he raised the sword she had forged for Robin so long ago.

* * *

><p>Darkness swirled around him.<p>

The flowing shadows were consistent, always circling him at the same pace, never slowing, and never faltering. This void was all that he had left now. Time had no meaning here. It could have been days, or it could have been years. It was all the same to him, anyways.

He tried to find the light once more. He tried to see Cordelia's face as she ran towards him, with Morgan and Severa in her wake. He tried to remember the strange sensation of coming awake once more, in a place that had only ever plagued his dreams, only to see his friends standing before him. But all he found was darkness.

He could feel Grima's hunger. He could feel Grima's ire. But he could see nothing. He could remember nothing, and could sense nothing, for he _was_ nothing. Nothing but a disjointed thought, the lingering sentiments that refused to yield to the fell dragon's might.

Though he could not hear Cordelia's words, her heartfelt pleas resonated within him, renewing his strength, inspiring him to press on. But the darkness remained endless. Grima was inexorable, and the prisoner's struggles were akin to climbing a glass wall. He could gain no traction, and could make no progress.

And then he saw a crack. As one of Grima's vessels, the other avatar, was destroyed, he saw an opening in the darkness, a single mote of light, a ray of hope, and he clung to it, grasping it, pulling himself free of the void that imprisoned him. He felt himself sliding free of the shadow, to wherever the light might take him. He felt the darkness around him protest, grasp at him, and try to pull him back.

The Recusant refused to yield to the eternal seas of darkness. As Cordelia's heart called out to him once more, a final farewell, flooded with grief and sorrow, he yearned to be there, to protect her, and he fought on, refusing to give in.

As the light flickered dangerously, he clung to it even more tightly than before, and this time, it was enough. The darkness fell away with a rush, color returning to the vivid world around him. He could see the sunset on the horizon. He could feel the cool leather hilt of his blade, held upraised in his hand. And he could smell the salty ocean breeze, even thousands of feet up in the air.

With a thought, the Recusant brought the fell dragon to a halt.

The memories of his new bodies began to flood back to him. In his mind's eye, he could see Lucina, faltering at the last moment before the might of the fell dragon. He could see Chrom, trying desperately to carry her torch forward, to no avail. He could see the desperation etched in Cordelia's face as she came to find him, imploring him to find his way back.

Robin could feel the murderous spirit, his own soul fighting him for control once more, and knew he did not have much time to put things to right.

* * *

><p>"I guess you were right, Cordelia," Robin said softly.<p>

Cordelia's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes remained closed, but for a moment, she dared to hope that she had not misheard. That it was really Robin's voice, without the dark shadow of Grima hanging over him.

She heard the clatter of silver, ringing out against the fell dragon's scales, as Eternity slipped from his grasp. She felt his arms wrap around her comfortingly and his lips pressing against hers for one brief moment. Stunned, she opened her eyes, and found Robin standing there, smiling sadly. "Robin…" she said softly, in a tone of relief, upon seeing that no trace of Grima remained in his eyes.

"I should've listened to you," Robin said apologetically, with a self-deprecating chuckle. "When you told me I would never hurt the people I loved, I should've believed you. Instead, I managed to do… all of this," he said, gesturing at the fell dragons sadly. "This was an awful plan."

Cordelia smiled at the familiar words. "Robin… you did it. You won." She reached out for him, needing to feel his touch once more.

"No," Robin corrected firmly, as he drew away, and Cordelia's joyful expression faded slightly. "The body is his. The soul is his. All I have is the strength the Shepherds lent me, these unbreakable bonds we've forged over the years. All I have is the strength you've given me, Cordelia."

"But that's enough!" Cordelia protested. "You've beaten him!"

"No," Robin said again, shaking his head sadly. "Our reprieve is temporary. He's fighting back, and I can't hold him forever. He will win, and when he does, our friends will die. Our daughters will die. You will die. I can't deny him, Cordelia, he's too strong."

Cordelia looked at him despairingly. "You have to try!" she urged.

Robin smiled, the clever, confident grin he wore whenever he had a plan. "No, I don't," he said boldly, for he shared Grima's knowledge, now, and knew where the fell dragon was weak. "Thankfully, even now, I hold onto his power." Robin casually retrieved Eternity, and moved to stand beside the nape of the dragon's neck.

"The only power that can destroy Grima for good. How nice of him to put it at my fingertips," Robin mused. "For once, I'm glad Grima and I are one and the same. Now I can truly protect those I care about, and banish this nightmare forever. In some way, we share the blame for the evils Grima would visit upon this world. It's only right we meet our end together!"

Robin lifted Eternity, the tip of the blade angled straight down towards the nape of Grima's neck, and plunged the sword downward. The dark barrier emerged, in an attempt to protect Grima's essence, but Robin willed it to turn back upon itself, and it flowed up the sword instead. Eternity shined brilliantly, outlined in the aphotic flames, and the empowered weapon sunk deep into the fell dragon's neck, the brutal magic reaching across the planar divide where Grima's true essence was sheltered.

Suddenly, the fell dragon gave a jolt, throwing both Robin and Cordelia from their feet, then stiffened. Around them, all of the risen, entombed, and demonic skeletons, who had been standing still at Robin's command, began crumbling away. The fell dragon roared, the dragon itself breaking free of Robin's hold in its final moments.

"DAMN YOU!" the dragon bellowed, denying his own fate.

But the single roar of protest, echoed loudly by the other fell dragon, was all that Grima could muster before the fell dragon's body went limp. It didn't fall – suspended by the fading magic, it simply began to wither away slowly, its flesh and bone dissolving into shadow, the dark essence gathered from the Grimleal sacrifices slowly dissipating into the air.

"It's over," Robin said quietly, as he walked to Cordelia's side, taking her hand. "Thank you, Cordelia… without your strength, I would never have… I could never have broken free of him."

Cordelia smiled and turned, waving upwards, beckoning to her friend. Catria, who had loyally circled her master despite being sent away, eagerly soared down to her side. "It's time for us to go home," Cordelia said gently, leading Robin to the Pegasus.

But Robin resisted, and only smiled sadly. "That would be wonderful, wouldn't it?" he said wistfully.

"Robin…?" Cordelia asked, unsure of his meaning. Robin remained silent for several seconds.

"Cordelia… I have to go now," Robin finally said. "This body is bound in Grima's magic, just like the fell dragons. I've destroyed him, and I can feel his power leaving this world for good. This body will crumble soon."

"You can't mean that!" Cordelia protested. "You can hold yourself together! You have to!"

In answer, Robin only held up his hand, which still bore the brand. Before Cordelia's eyes, Robin's flesh seemed to begin to deteriorate, to wither away into shadow. Dark streaks appeared on his face and on his robes, and clouds of wispy black dust seemed to stream from them, sliding through the seams of his armor as well. "I'm sorry, Cordelia," Robin said sadly, though he forced himself to smile, even as tears welled up in his eyes.

"No! You can't leave me now!" Cordelia said, and she rushed forward, embracing him tightly. To her horror, it felt almost as if her arms were sinking into him, as more and more of him became insubstantial mist. "Stay with me, Robin! Please!" she pleaded. "You can't leave me again!"

"I love you," Robin said gently, as he softly pushed himself away, his body growing fainter. "I love you, Cordelia, and I will be waiting for you. There _is_ something more to me than just Grima. Maybe it's not a complete soul in its own, but it's enough. One day, we'll meet again."

"No!" Cordelia protested again. "Too many times now have I been forced to watch others give their lives for me… this time has to be different!"

Robin looked away, trying to hide his tears. "Take care of Severa and Morgan for me, Cordelia. Tell them I loved them. Tell them… tell them that I'm sorry."

"You can tell them yourself," Cordelia insisted, fighting back her own tears. "You had the strength to defeat Grima. I know you have the strength to hold yourself together! To come back to us!"

"Perhaps," Robin conceded softly, though from his tone it was clear he was only trying to console her.

"I mean it, Robin!" Cordelia demanded. "You said it yourself before! I was right last time, wasn't I? I'll be right this time, too. You aren't leaving Severa and Morgan again. You're coming home with us, to see baby Severa. You'll be there when Morgan is born."

Robin smiled as he thought of his younger daughter, though it stung him to know that she would never exist in this timeline. But then, the true meaning of Cordelia's words sunk in, and he turned, startled. "C-Cordelia?" Robin asked, suddenly short on breath, hardly daring to believe what she had told him.

"You heard me," Cordelia said, a playful smile spreading across her lips and masking her fear and pain for the moment. "I figured it out myself this time, just after we made it back from Valm… I thought you should be the first to know. Even if you have to disappear now, you have to come back to us, Robin. You have to!"

Robin began to laugh lightly, as his body continued to fade away. "All right, Cordelia. You win. I won't give up," he promised.

"We'll be waiting for you," Cordelia promised, echoing Robin's words from earlier. She watched as her husband nodded reassuringly, and closed his eyes, a satisfied expression on his face as his body finally faded away entirely, the dark vapors floating away. His robes faded with him, and only his armor and weapons remained, clattering to the ground.

Cordelia stared at the pile for several moments, Robin's last words echoing through her mind as her heart continued to beat rapidly. She closed her eyes, allowing but a single tear to escape. Overcome by emotion, she took no notice of the dying dragon shuddering beneath her feet.

"Come back soon," Cordelia finally whispered, hope finally, fully taking root in her heart for the first time since Robin's death in Valm. She retrieved Eternity and its sheath, before climbing astride Catria and setting off.

Neither the crimson-haired Pegasus knight, nor her majestic steed looked back, as the fell dragon faded from their world forever.

* * *

><p>Chrom closed his eyes, not wanting to see their quest's gruesome end. Despite his promises to Lucina, despite all the trials they had overcome, it just hadn't been enough. He tried to distance his thoughts, but images of his friends dying around him filled his mind, tormenting him. Around him, some of the other Shepherds did the same. Others were determined to face their death with their eyes open and heads held high. As Grima took a deep breath, the flames gathering in his mouth, the Shepherds, too, took a deep breath – the last any of them expected to take.<p>

But the killing flames did not come. The flames flickered and died in the dragon's maw, and the dragon held perfectly still, as if he had turned to stone. Eventually, the Shepherds released the breaths they had been holding, and looked on, confused by the sudden inaction.

They held that tableau for some time, waiting for the fell dragon to strike and end their lives, but the blow didn't come. Instead, the head suddenly snapped back, and wailed.

"DAMN YOU!" the dragon roared, as the entire fell dragon stiffened suddenly, and many Shepherds toppled over, losing their footing.

And then the dragon began to fade away. Parts of it turned dark, dissolving into the same inky darkness that had composed it. The essence drifted free of the dissipating form, melting away into the sky around them.

"What… what's happening?" Chrom stammered, shocked. He looked at Falchion, wondering if he had perhaps managed to strike down Grima after all. But he knew it was impossible. He had felt the blade deflected by the power of Grima, and he knew Naga could not answer his call.

"Chrom, what's going on!?" Lissa asked, equally confused. Several of the other Shepherds echoed her question, terrified, as it seemed like the dragon was melting away beneath their feet.

Chrom grasped Falchion, knowing that likely only one person could answer their questions now. He walked to Lucina's side, and placed the hilt into her hands, gently clasping her fingers around it. As he did so, he could feel her heart beat still, and knew his daughter yet lived.

"Lucina… can you hear me?" Chrom asked. Lucina did not stir.

The Shepherds gathered, looking around helplessly. The dragon did not seem to be falling, but if it disappeared beneath their feet, surely they would all plummet to their deaths, save for those that could fly. They looked around nervously, wondering just what had happened to Grima, and what would become of them all now.

After several minutes, Lucina groaned weakly. "Lucina!?" Sumia said, crouching at her daughter's side, Cynthia and Chrom standing beside her.

Lucina did not speak, but she had apparently found the strength to reach out to Naga once more. The divine dragon appeared once more, to everyone's relief, and her divine light enveloped them silently, calling them to a distant place once more. When the light cleared, they found themselves sprawled upon the peak of the mountain. Chrom immediately looked up, and saw both of the fell dragons fading away before their eyes.

"Naga, what just happened?" Chrom asked, his voice plagued by uncertainty.

"Something that I had once thought impossible," Naga admitted. "Grima turned his own power against himself. He's been thoroughly destroyed."

"What!?" several Shepherds cried at once, flabbergasted.

"How?" Chrom demanded.

"Robin," a calm, melodious voice answered. They turned to see Cordelia and Catria touching down, Cordelia holding Robin's sword. Upon seeing the weapon, Chrom knew the truth, and understood that while the rest of the Shepherds challenged the fell dragon, Cordelia had chosen to try to reach out to her husband once more. Alone.

"Robin broke free of Grima, and destroyed him," Cordelia continued softly. That was all the explanation she offered, as she placed Eternity, still sheathed, in Catria's saddlebags, and moved to embrace Severa, who was still carefully holding Morgan's unconscious form. Robin's daughter only looked at her mother, stunned.

The Shepherds' eyes widened in disbelief upon hearing Cordelia's words. They turned to Naga once more, seeking answers.

Naga bowed her head. "An interesting turn of events. I would never have imagined the fell dragon's avatar to be strong enough to separate himself from Grima's soul," she said serenely. "Your bonds with Robin were far stronger than I had imagined."

"Grima's gone?" Lucina asked faintly, finally coming to full consciousness.

"Indeed," Naga affirmed with a kind smile. "Grima has been thoroughly destroyed."

"But what about Robin?" Chrom asked urgently, his gaze turning to Cordelia, who was seemed disturbingly calm about it all.

Naga shook her head. "A light there may have been, but in heart, soul, and body, Robin remained Grima. Otherwise, he would never have been able to destroy Grima as he did. He must have perished along with Grima."

Lucina looked up at the fading forms of the fell dragons above them. "The war is ended, then," she said gravely, her voice still weak. "Never again will the fell dragon trouble our world." She glanced at Robin's family as she spoke, and though Cordelia and Severa were both smiling and seemingly at peace, the sight tore at her heart nonetheless.

Chrom looked up sadly, too, as the last vestiges of Grima's shadow dissipated. "Robin… if you can hear us, thank you. We all owe you far more than words can ever repay."

"You've left the world in our hands, Robin," Frederick said determinedly. "It falls to us to look after the realm now."

"Bah!" Flavia barked. "Leave it to you to take responsibility for all of us, you fool. If you really care for us that much, then you know we still need you here!"

"That's right," Basilio rumbled in agreement. "You've done what you had to do, but your job's not finished yet! You get your sorry arse back here, boy!"

"Cling not to false hopes," Naga admonished gently, and several of the Shepherds turned to her in protest. She ignored their bitter stares. "Robin has made a courageous decision, in standing against Grima's predilections. You must honor that decision." When the Shepherds said nothing, she continued. "I'm afraid my part in this story is ended, too, and I must return to my slumber. May your future remain bright forevermore," she said, as she faded from sight once more. As she did, Lucina felt the power flow away from Falchion, now that it was no longer needed.

They all remained silent for some time. "She's right," Chrom finally admitted with a sigh. "Robin has secured for us all the most precious gift: a future. Now it falls upon our shoulders to protect what was given. I vow to give my all to healing the damage this war has wrought upon the realm. But Robin… if you can hear me… you will always have a place here with us. Remember that. Always."

* * *

><p>The Shepherds managed to make their way back to the beach. At Chrom's insistence, they stopped there for the night, setting up a campsite. Though they knew a rowdier party would be in order once they returned to Ylisstol, they still celebrated quietly that night, toasting Naga, Lucina, Morgan, and most of all, Robin, drinking what few alcoholic libations they had brought.<p>

Morgan awoke not long after, wrapped tightly in a thick woolen blanket, with her mother and sister sitting nearby. Both of them smiled when they saw her awaken, and the broken family reunited happily. Then Cordelia and Severa told Morgan of their victory. Morgan had known Grima was defeated the moment she woke up safe and sound, but until Cordelia told her of her father's actions, the girl had assumed Lucina proved victorious. The truth overwhelmed the girl at first, but the tale of Robin's strength and bravery brought her comfort nonetheless.

The Shepherds slept well that night, plagued by fewer nightmares of the fell dragon, and more bright dreams of the future that lay ahead. The following morning, Chrom rose early, and hastily patrolled the camp, as if hoping the tactician would have magically reappeared in the night. But he knew it was a fool's hope, and forced himself not to be disappointed as the camp came awake, with no sign of his late friend.

They cleared away the camp soon after, and climbed aboard the boats with their belongings. When they arrived on the coast of Plegia, there was much cheering from the locals, who had seen their victory. The villagers begged them to stay for some time, to share stories of their victory, but Chrom politely declined their hospitality, and they set off for Ylisstol almost immediately after retrieving the animals and belongings they had left behind.

There was no rush this time, and all was _almost _as it should have been. The Shepherds enjoyed the peaceful scenery as they slowly marched home, along a path toward a brighter future, free from despair at last.


	13. Epilogue: Reprise

**Epilogue: Reprise**

For the first time he could remember, Chrom found himself completely free of doubts and fears. They had crossed the border between Plegia and Ylisse that morning. He knew the challenges ahead would be arduous, but rebuilding didn't seem like such a chore compared to what they had just been through. The entire continent had been ravaged by the war, but hope shined brighter than ever, now that Grima had been permanently cleansed from their realm. For now, Chrom simply relaxed, leaning against the side of the supply cart he sat in, and enjoying the warm summer breeze. Though their lives had been scarred thoroughly, the peaceful land around them seemed untouched, and the lush green meadows and clear blue skies soothed any trepidation that may have remained.

On the first few days of their trek home, Chrom had awoken early each morning, hoping to find Robin, sitting by the campfire eating breakfast, perhaps, or curled up against one of the supply carts with a musty old tome in hand. But he soon realized that the pain in his heart was not nearly as acute as he had expected. When Robin had taken his own life in Valm, a sense of wrongness had hung over Chrom wherever he went. This time, though, it was as if Grima's defeat brought closure to it all. Though he was saddened by the knowledge that Robin could not enjoy the future he had bought for them all himself, Naga's words had taken root in Chrom's heart. Even if Robin couldn't be here with them, somewhere, his best friend was surely enjoying his own peace.

High up above the Shepherd's procession, a pair of Pegasi soared through the clear skies. As he watched, the Pegasi made a few lazy loops, enjoying the beautiful weather as much as the Shepherds did. Chrom could just barely make out the red-haired riders, and Morgan's cloak. There really was no need for them to maintain their patrols, but Morgan, Cordelia, Cynthia, and Cherche all insisted upon it. Chrom knew it was really just an excuse for them to glide along, lazing amidst the serene skies. Sumia's Pegasus had recovered rather quickly, and she had joined them for the patrols the previous night, although right now, Sumia rested idly at Chrom's side, Caeda trotting alongside the cart.

Chrom noted, with some relief, that Robin's family was closer than ever. Learning the truth of Morgan's fate in Lucina's timeline had been a shock, but this Morgan was determined not to let it get between her and her sister. Severa had mellowed out quite a bit, too, now that she was finally comfortable with the idea that she had a real family with her. It was as if Morgan's forgiveness had lifted a great weight from her shoulders.

To Chrom's surprise, Cordelia had taken Robin's second demise rather well, though he suspected it had something to do with the conversation the couple must have shared in Robin's final moments. There was no sign of brooding or grief, and Chrom often saw Cordelia and Severa sparring playfully in the mornings, or the surprisingly happy family flying together astride the Pegasi. Morgan was more than happy to be the passenger for a change, riding behind her sister, though Severa often complained that Morgan would fall asleep during one of their flights and fall straight out of the sky.

"Chrom! Chrom!" Lissa shouted excitedly, rousing Chrom from his reverie.

"What is it?" Chrom asked, turning to face his younger sister.

"Come with me, fast!" Lissa insisted, and without waiting for Chrom to follow, she ran off. With a groan, Chrom leapt nimbly out of the cart. Sumia followed suit, and Chrom gladly extended his arm, the two of them walking off, hand-in-hand. Caeda followed close behind, nuzzling Sumia's arm cheerfully.

Lissa had run to the top of a small, grassy hill, and turned, gesturing to them impatiently. Wearing amused smiles, Chrom and Sumia walked up to her casually. "Over there!" Lissa said eagerly, pointing to the field below. Chrom followed her finger to the grassy meadow below, and noticed a dark object lying there, about a hundred paces away.

Chrom did a double take as he recognized the golden tassels and violet and gold markings on the robe. "Is… is that…" Chrom stuttered, his voice failing him. Beside him, Sumia squealed in delight.

"Sumia, go fetch Cordelia," Chrom said urgently, as he rushed down the field, Lissa following close behind him. Sumia, eager to see her best friend's expression, hopped aboard Caeda and urged her upwards, to where Severa, Morgan, and Cordelia were circling overhead.

Chrom and Lissa made their way to the fallen man's side, and sure enough, it was Robin, dozing peacefully in the center of the meadow. His armor was gone, lost to the waves, but then again, he didn't really need it anymore. His platinum-blond hair was scattered messily around him. It was almost an exact repeat of how they had come across the tactician initially. "Robin?" Chrom asked gently, but Robin didn't stir.

Content to let his friend sleep for a moment longer, Chrom stood there, watching his friend serenely. Despite the tranquility he had felt earlier, only upon seeing Robin did a sense of completeness come over him. Beside him, though, Lissa did not share his patience.

"Chrom… we have to do _something_." Lissa whined.

"What do you propose we do?" Chrom asked, smiling as he realized those were precisely their first words when they found Robin the first time. He fully expected Lissa to reach down and shake Robin awake, but to his surprise, Lissa actually looked nervous.

"Well… I don't know…" Lissa replied uneasily, watching Robin closely. She moved a foot closer as if to try to nudge Robin awake, but before she reached him, Robin groaned. As the two excited royals watched, Robin yawned, and blinked sleepily, looking up at them curiously. "Hey there!" Lissa said kindly, bending closer.

"I see you're awake now," Chrom said, with a wide smile. "There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know," he teased. "Give me your hand."

Robin brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes, and extended his hand obediently, which Chrom grasped tightly. As Chrom helped Robin to his feet, he couldn't help but notice that the brand on the back of Robin's hand had disappeared. "Thanks," Robin said appreciatively, as he tried to reorient himself.

"Welcome back, Robin," Chrom said, still beaming. "It's over now."

Robin said nothing for a moment, and looked around curiously. Suddenly, Lissa looked alarmed, as a terrible thought occurred to her. "Wait… Robin, you haven't forgotten everything again, have you?" she demanded urgently. "What's my name!?"

Robin chuckled. "I'm fine, Lissa. I remember everything. Well, everything since we met for the first time," he corrected himself sheepishly, and Chrom and Lissa both laughed. Robin turned, and smiled as he spotted was he was searching for. Three Pegasi were flying towards them, two of them landing only a short distance away. Cordelia leapt down from her Pegasus, and Morgan and Severa hopped down from astride the other. Robin began sprinting towards them, as Sumia soared overhead, waving as she set Caeda down beside Chrom.

Robin slowed as he approached his family, but Cordelia did not. She simply threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around Robin tightly.

"Dad!" Severa and Morgan called excitedly, as they raced to his side.

"You were right. Again," Robin conceded, as he closed his eyes and enjoyed his wife's touch.

Cordelia grinned. "I told you that you'd find your way back. Did you doubt me?" she teased.

Robin laughed. "Not this time. I've learned my lesson," he conceded. The couple shared a tender kiss, and for once their romantic moment went uninterrupted by their eldest daughter, who looked on happily while holding her younger sister's hand tightly.

When they separated at last, Lissa could wait no longer. "Come on, Robin!" Lissa cried enthusiastically. "Let's go see all the other Shepherds! Can you imagine the look on everyone's faces?"

* * *

><p>The Shepherds reacted much as Lissa would have expected, when they saw Robin and Cordelia return to the camp, holding hands, with their two daughters following eagerly, nearly bursting with excitement. Shouts of surprise and glee echoed across the procession, and the march soon came to a complete halt, as all of the Shepherds rushed over to see their friend returned, with their own eyes. More than one of them thanked him profusely for putting a permanent end to Grima, although Robin looked slightly uncomfortable as they praised his heroism.<p>

Stahl, Vaike, Gregor, Owain, and Basilio had gone as far as to begin setting up camp and preparing for another party, when Chrom reminded them that their provisions, while sufficient for the remainder of their journey, would not likely be enough for a proper celebration. Given the mood, there was some doubt as to whether _any_ celebration would prove adequate, but the Shepherds were determined to try. Until then, the return journey had been at a rather relaxed pace, but now, the Shepherds sped along towards Ylisstol eagerly, ready to savor their hard-earned victory in earnest.

Again, Chrom proved to be their voice of reason, insisting that they stop for the night at a reasonable hour to avoid burning themselves out just in time to collapse on the castle steps. Naturally, Robin was the center of attention throughout their campfire merrymaking, which persisted even long after he retreated to his tent, still tired from his ordeal.

* * *

><p>"Robin… you're here to stay this time, right?" Cordelia asked uneasily, finally giving voice to her doubts now that they were alone.<p>

"Of course," Robin reassured, though he kept his eyes closed and was content to remain lying down. "I think I've had enough of dying to last me a lifetime, anyways," he added dryly.

"You still remember the night you proposed to me, don't you?" Cordelia asked, gently playing with his hair as she laid beside him. "How you asked me what we would do when we grew tired of this life?"

Robin smiled. "Of course. I think I've had my share of war, by the way… what about you?"

"I was just thinking the same thing," Cordelia said quietly. "Maybe we could find a peaceful place in the countryside somewhere to settle down."

"That would be nice," Robin agreed, enjoying her soft caress.

"Is something wrong, Robin?" Cordelia asked, remembering his discomfort earlier. "You seemed almost upset when the other Shepherds were crowding around you."

"It's nothing," Robin said. But when Cordelia remained silent, he knew she wasn't convinced. "I was just wondering whether I really deserved any of their gratitude. In a way, it was all my fault to begin with wasn't it?"

"How could you still be wondering about that?" Cordelia asked in disbelief. "Grima is gone, Robin. You're still here. Doesn't that prove that you were never truly Grima? The Robin we know, and the Robin I love, was always someone different."

"I know. I do feel a little bit silly for worrying about it," Robin admitted with another smile. "I could feel you all reaching out for me, you know. When I was fading away, it was like I could hear your heart calling out to me, reaching for me, and rooting me here. Somehow, that was all I needed to pull myself back together."

"I'm just glad you listened to me this time," Cordelia said, as she held him tightly. "Robin, the day you proposed to me was the happiest day of my life. I want nothing more than to keep you close until the end of my days."

"I'll be here," Robin promised. "I would like nothing better, myself."

* * *

><p>Robin was rather shocked when they reached Ylisstol. The barricades that had been strewn around the city still lay in tatters, and the scorched, bloodstained and ash-laden fields were a sharp contrast to the verdant meadows and lush forests they had passed on their way home. It wasn't quite the joyous homecoming he had hoped for, but when he remembered that he had never truly expected to come home at all ever since they lost the Fire Emblem in Valm, he shrugged it off.<p>

Once they were past the city gates, Ylisstol was quite the lively city from his memories, despite its recent hardships. As soon as the citizens saw Chrom leading the march back into the city, cheering erupted all around the Shepherds, and the news spread through the city like wildfire, with the crowds swelling as they made their way to the castle. The city still showed signs of the recent battle, but the scars were not quite as obvious as along the city perimeter. A few houses here and there had been razed by stray fire magic, and the cobblestone roads showed many new cracks, but much of the spilt blood had been washed away already, and damaged or ruined buildings were already showing the signs of new construction efforts.

Several of the watchful civilians noted Robin's presence with some surprise. After all, their legendary tactician was said to have died in Valm, in his efforts to dissuade the Plegians from resurrecting Grima. At first, Chrom was worried that some would also remember Grima joining the assault against Ylisstol permanently, but with a pang, he realized that wouldn't be a concern – every soldier that had approached and challenged Grima's avatar that day had been summarily destroyed by the merciless fell dragon. If any remembered seeing Robin there and still lived, they kept their stories to themselves.

The crowd followed them all the way to the steps of Castle Ylisse. Most of the signs of battle in the castle had been cleared away already. Despite her father's protests, Maribelle had insisted upon meeting them at the entrance hall. "Prince Chrom!" Maribelle cried, weeping tears of joy as she rushed forward. Dignity and station forgotten, she first embraced her prince, then Lissa, and finally her husband.

"Grima's dead. None of us are," Gaius reassured kindly, trying to stem his wife's tears. "No more tears, Twinkles."

Brady, too, stepped forward to give his mother a hug. "We're home, Ma," he said, trying hard to hold back his own tears of joy.

"Yes," Maribelle said, sniffling, while wearing a small smile. "And I'm afraid you are in for a few courses on grammar and proper speech, young man."

"Aw, nuts, Ma!" Brady protested, as Gaius laughed.

"By the way, we've completed most of the burials, milord," Maribelle said, turning to Chrom. "We've begun construction of a memorial just east of the city proper, near the new cemetery. I asked the architects to start drawing plans for a pair of statues, one for Emmeryn, and another for Robin. Would you agree?"

"I don't think I need a statue," Robin said sheepishly, alerting Maribelle to his presence for the first time. She turned, shocked upon hearing his voice, and nearly fainted at the sight of him. Many of the other Shepherds burst out laughing, as Gaius rushed to her side.

"Okay, I'm not sure how she completely overlooked you, but still, let's not give my wife a heart attack, please," Gaius said, his tone sounding both anxious and amused. "You alright, love?"

Maribelle took several deep breaths, before glaring at Robin. "Explain!" she demanded fiercely, though tears of joy shone from her eyes, making her true feelings clear.

"I'll handle it," Chrom said gently, with a smile. "You and Cordelia should go see your baby," Chrom prompted. Robin smiled appreciatively and nodded his thanks, before setting off with Cordelia.

* * *

><p>Despite the recent loss the city had sustained, celebrations erupted all across Ylisstol that night. At first, Chrom was mildly disappointed that the brave Feroxi warriors had returned home already, but Basilio and Flavia reassured him that it only meant they would have to suffer yet another celebration when the khans returned bearing their news. When both khans insisted that Chrom not spoil the surprise by sending a Pegasus rider ahead with the news, Chrom grinned, realizing that the two were merely looking forward to another opportunity to celebrate when they returned home.<p>

To Robin's chagrin, the real story did not stay quiet for long, although his friends thankfully kept his former connection with Grima quiet. Instead, the bards soon began spinning their songs about how the tactician nobly sacrificed himself to save Chrom, only to overcome death itself to return to the Shepherds' side and destroy the fell dragon during their final battle. "I guess it's close enough to the truth," Robin admitted to Cordelia, as he cradled baby Severa in his lap, the three of them tucked away in a quiet corner of the castle's banquet hall. "But it makes it all sound so heroic."

"That's because you _are_ a hero," Severa said cheerfully, sitting down beside her parents with a large plate of food and a small goblet of wine. "Heck, I think you're approaching legendary status."

Robin laughed to cover his embarrassment. "Careful, Severa. You're beginning to sound like Cynthia with all this talk of heroes and legends."

"She's right though," Cordelia said thoughtfully. "Even in Valm, I remember hearing bards sing about your duel with King Gangrel. In a few years, you'll probably be more famous than the first exalt. Everyone knows now that Chrom's ancestor didn't destroy Grima for good… but you did."

Robin groaned. "Maybe I should try to set the stories straight, then. I don't need to be a legend. I'd be perfectly happy if I could be a good husband and father."

"Okay, this is getting mushy," Severa protested, poking at her food. She couldn't hide her smile completely though, as she really was quite happy for a second chance to be with her family. She turned her gaze across the room, where Brady and Inigo had started a little performance, with Brady playing his violin beautifully, while Inigo danced. Morgan was staring with rapt attention, entranced and ignoring Owain, who seemed to be trying to speak to her. Her inattentiveness escaped his notice, as he enthusiastically continued his story. Owain had always been his own best audience, after all.

"By the way, did you hear that Chrom's reconstituting the Pegasus knights?" Cordelia asked. Robin looked at her, surprised.

"I haven't heard about that," Robin said, shaking his head. "Did he ask you to be captain again?"

Cordelia smiled. "I think he knew what my answer would've been. And actually, Cynthia begged him to bring back the Pegasus knights so that she could be captain. Cynthia did ask me if I would give her some formal training, though, so we might not be able to leave Ylisstol anytime soon."

"You're leaving?" Severa asked, her voice apprehensive.

"We were just thinking about moving to some place a little bit quieter," Cordelia soothed. "You'd be welcome to come with us, or visit whenever you'd like."

"It wouldn't be for some time, anyways," Robin agreed. "We'll probably want to wait for the dust to settle, first."

"Oh. Alright," Severa said, trying to hide her relief. "No wonder Cynthia was asking me whether it would be Morgan or me flying Catria from now on. She'd probably be pretty bored as the only member of the Ylissean Pegasus knights."

"Were you thinking about enlisting?" Cordelia asked curiously.

Severa snorted. "No way! I'd go crazy listening to her rambling," Severa said quickly. "I don't think Morgan's too interested in becoming a knight, either."

"Have you told her about Morgan yet?" Robin asked Cordelia, and Cordelia shook her head.

Severa looked at them, confused. "What about Morgan?"

"You're going to have a third little sister soon," Cordelia explained with a smile, and Severa's eyes widened.

"When?" Severa demanded.

"I haven't checked with a healer yet," Cordelia admitted with a shrug. "But I would guess sometime in the winter. I found out just after we returned from Valm."

"Found what out?" Morgan asked, as she sat down at Severa's side.

Cordelia smiled at her younger daughter. "Found out that you're going to be born in this timeline in about eight months," she replied.

Morgan's eyes lit up in excitement. "Wait, are you going to call her Morgan, too?" Morgan asked.

"Do you want us to call her something different?" Robin asked gently. It was something a few of the Shepherds had mentioned. Lucina, Inigo, and Severa had all been named already, so it would be rather awkward to call them something different now, but Lissa had complained it would be just as weird naming her future son something else. Even though she had not yet fallen pregnant even, she had already begun thinking of her future son as Owain.

"Hmm… nope! It's a great name," Morgan replied happily. "Can I stay with you two? I'd love to have two little sisters to play with!"

"Of course," Cordelia replied immediately. "You and Severa are both welcome to stay with us wherever we go, whenever you want."

Robin smiled as he watched his daughters chatter happily about their future. The day after they found Robin in the meadow, Morgan and Severa had told them the truth of the Morgan from the future timeline. Robin had been terribly distraught when he learned that Grima had used him to turn Morgan against her own sister, and had attempted the same trick again during their final battle. Robin was glad to see that the unpleasant truth hadn't come between the sisters at all. Of course, no one knew where this Morgan was from. But no one really seemed to care much.

In a way, Robin felt much like he did after the end of the Second Plegian War. The future was still full of doubt and questions, and it certainly wasn't going to be an easy road. But, with his family beside him, it would be an enjoyable one nonetheless. And next time, if the gods decided the world had to be saved, the task would just have to fall to someone else, because Robin was fairly certain that his role in history had finally come to an end.

* * *

><p><em>~ Twenty months later, in Ylisstol ~<em>

"Crud. You win again," Morgan said with a frown, as her father carefully slid his wyvern knight across the board, flanking her tactician. Although Robin had not fought a single battle since the victory over Grima, his mind remained as sharp as always. On one hand, Morgan enjoyed having a skilled opponent to practice strategy against. But on the other, she won only one out of every four games at best.

"That was a clever move with the ambush you had lined up in the woods," Robin conceded. "I was hard-pressed to find a way around it. You've improved quite a lot, Morgan."

Morgan could only laugh. "Of course. I've been guiding the Shepherds for six months now, I had to learn _something_ in the field, right?"

"You haven't been getting into anything dangerous, have you?" Robin asked, slightly concerned. As far as he was aware, there had been no sign of any risen since Grima's fall.

"Nothing serious," Morgan said with a shrug. "We've had a couple run-ins with bandits, but that's about it."

"I guess there'll always be people out there causing trouble for others," Robin said with a sigh, remembering his own first encounter with bandits on the day he met Chrom. "Well, if you would like, I found a new text the other night, with an emphasis on advanced tactics relating to cavalry."

"Hmm… it could make a nice read," Morgan said, as Robin began to rummage on the shelf behind him. "But Stahl is the only Shepherd we have left who fights from horseback."

"That's right, huh?" Robin replied absently, recalling that Frederick was now captaining the Ylissean Royal Guard, and Sully had left to explore the countryside a few months ago. The Shepherds had become a far smaller company, much like it had been when Robin was leading them. Things had been rather quiet, though, and the Shepherds spent most of their time here in Ylisstol.

"I thought you were supposed to keep this place organized," Morgan said, stifling a giggle as she watched several books tumble from the bookshelf, one of them landing straight on Robin's head.

"Don't you start," Robin said, as he finally found the book he was searching for. "Here, if you feel like reading it," he said, as he passed the tome to Morgan. As he did, he started scooping up the fallen books.

It had taken nearly six months to repair the damage Grima had wrought upon Ylisstol. During the reconstruction, a new library had been constructed just beyond the castle grounds to hold the books formerly kept within the castle library. The rarely-used castle library had been turned into a proper conference room when the exalt had finally grown weary of holding their meetings in the throne room.

It turned out that city life suited Robin and Cordelia rather well, after all, and Robin had agreed to become the caretaker of the new library. As Severa and Cordelia had predicted, Robin had quickly become a legend, and scholars from as far as Valm often stopped by to see the famed tactician in person. Despite the attention, which sometimes proved suffocating, Robin enjoyed his life surrounded by his books.

Robin glanced at his worktable, where several partially-penned anima tomes were stacked. He had begun scribing spell tomes lately. Ricken had taken on several new pupils, bright and young students like he himself had once been, but they often visited the library too, seeking additional lessons from Robin.

The sound of a baby crying drew him away from his silent musings. "Is something wrong, Morgan?" Robin asked gently, as he walked to the corner of the room, where baby Morgan laid on a pile of fluffy blankets in a rustic, wooden crib.

"Ma," the red-haired baby said sadly.

"Your mom will be here soon," Robin soothed. "She's just gone to pick up a birthday cake for you."

"You know, it's weird that she has a different birthday from me," the adult Morgan noted. "Especially since I only know my own birthday since Severa told me. Sometimes I wonder if that was even my real birthday."

Robin shrugged. "This time-travel business is weird like that," he conceded. "Lucina, Cynthia, Inigo, Brady, Owain, and Severa all have different birthdays too, remember?"

"Daddy?" Severa asked, upon hearing her name. She looked up at her father inquisitively from another corner of the room, sitting on a small carpet and holding a small wooden Pegasus she had been silently playing with.

"Hello, Severa," Robin said with a smile, as he walked over and scooped up the little girl in a tight hug. The girl returned the hug happily enough, now that she had her father's attention.

"You know, it's a wonder you get any work at all done here when Mother leaves you with us," the older Morgan remarked.

"I learned pretty early on that books usually don't run away, but little girls do," Robin answered casually, as he kissed Severa lightly on the cheek, and the toddler giggled. "Especially you, Severa. Do you want to tell your sister about how disappeared on me the other day?"

"Hide-and-seek!" Severa exclaimed excitedly, and Morgan laughed.

"You could probably hide a wyvern in here," Morgan said teasingly. "It's a good place for hide-and-seek. How would you ever find one little girl?"

"You call her name and listen for her giggling," Robin said, grinning mischievously. Severa began squirming, her attention apparently returning to her toy, and Robin gently set her down. As he did, the sound of the heavy wooden door opening echoed through the library and up the stairs.

"Mom!" the older Morgan cried excitedly, racing downstairs. Robin sighed. Morgan was quite small, still, standing at almost exactly five feet and weighing just under a hundred pounds, but she was unbelievably energetic, and her heavy footfalls sent a couple precariously perched books tumbling from the shelves.

"I guess it's really my fault for leaving them there in the first place," Robin said, resigned, as he replaced the books. He then scooped up baby Morgan from her crib. "Come on, Severa," Robin called, and he waited for the toddler to catch up before descending the wooden steps.

"You three coming?" Cordelia asked, smiling as she stood at the base of the staircase.

"Mommy!" Severa cried happily, as she rushed down the stairs. But before she could reach her mother, her own older self caught her and swept her up into the air. "Sis!" the toddler cried happily, not minding in the slightest.

"Sorry sweetie, Mommy's carrying your sister's cake," Cordelia said, holding up a large red paper box, bound with golden lace and topped with a small ribbon. The younger Severa's eyes shone with delight as the older Severa laughed.

"I bet you're looking forward to it more than Morgan, aren't you?" she said, teasing her younger self. Robin carefully stepped past his oldest daughter and offered Morgan, still bundled tightly, to her mother, who gladly traded over the cake for the excited baby. Seeing that Cordelia and Severa had already changed, he led the way out of the library and towards the castle, his family trailing behind him.

"You look lovely in that dress," Robin said to his wife. Even though the war was long over, Cordelia still often wore her armor as she trained Cynthia, Severa, and a handful of their new recruits. Sometimes it was easy to forget how well the beautiful woman wore normal clothing. She looked absolutely stunning, dressed in a shimmering, simple-yet-elegant violet dress.

"Your oldest daughter has quite the fashion sense," Cordelia answered, blushing slightly. "You should come shopping with us sometime – maybe we can get you out of that old robe."

"Definitely!" Severa agreed, overhearing their conversation. "One of Anna's sisters brought over a bunch of new leather coats from Chon'sin – I bet they'd look great on you, Dad!"

"Just don't let Lucina help you choose one," Cordelia said with a grin, remembering when Sumia and the older Lucina had accompanied them on one of their jaunts through the marketplace. Severa groaned, trying to wipe the abominable flowery pink and gaudy dress that Lucina had tried to purchase for Sumia from her memory.

"So, how is Catria?" Morgan asked Severa, changing the subject. Robin smiled, remembering how despite her gruff protests, Severa had grudgingly agreed to enlist as a Pegasus knight after Cynthia had presented her with a formal invitation. Catria was more than accepting of Severa as her new rider, and Morgan didn't mind the slightest, as she preferred to spend her time curled up in her father's library anyhow. Of course, less than two months later, Lucina, who was now leading the Shepherds, had invited Morgan to join as their new tactician. Morgan was hesitant at first, but Robin had urged her to go – books could only take you so far.

"She's great," Severa said. "You should come see her again, though. I think she misses you."

"I will," Morgan promised. "Right after the party. Who else is coming?" she asked, turning to her father.

"Probably everyone we know in Ylisstol," Robin said with a grin. Though many of them had gone their separate ways, the Shepherds still remained family, pretty much. And though Chrom had finally accepted the title of exalt less than a month after Grima's defeat, he still insisted Severa and Morgan called him uncle. Chrom was still not one for formalities, it seemed. "Some things never change," Robin mused quietly.

"Are you thinking about the khans?" Cordelia guessed, and Robin's smile grew wider. Chrom, Robin, and Cordelia had all received invitations to the Feroxi tournament of the khans, from both Basilio and Flavia, and all three knew full well that they would probably be more than spectators if they accepted the invitations. Of course, a reunion with them was well overdue, too. A messenger had arrived a few days ago to inform them that Flavia was coming to Ylisstol to see Morgan on her first birthday. Later that afternoon, a second Feroxi messenger arrived, bearing similar news from Basilio. Thankfully Ferox was a pretty self-sufficient kingdom that could stand both of its rulers leaving for a few weeks.

"No, I was thinking about Chrom," Robin admitted with a smile. "And the Shepherds. But you're right, Flavia and Basilio haven't changed one bit, either."

"Uncle Robin!"

Robin and his family turned to see a young Lucina rushing unsteadily down the hall towards them. "Hello, Lucy. It's nice to see you," Robin said, smiling disarmingly at her. "Both of you," Robin added, as the older Lucina followed and scooped up her younger self.

"She misses you," Lucina added with a light laugh, as the toddler squirmed in her arms. "Lucy, Uncle Robin is carrying Morgan's cake, he'll give you a hug later, okay?"

"Okay," the toddler agreed reluctantly. "Hello, Sev!" she added, as she spotted her best friend, clutching a handful of Cordelia's dress.

Lucina set her younger twin down, and the younger Severa rushed forward, eager to show her best friend the wooden Pegasus she had been playing with. "Look what Mommy made for me," Severa said proudly, presenting the figurine.

"Aw! She's so cute!" Lucina proclaimed as she gently stroked the polished wood. "I want one too!"

"I'm sure Auntie Sumia can make you one, too," Severa said consolingly.

Cordelia cringed at the thought of her dear friend going anywhere near woodcarving tools. "I can make you one, Lucy," Cordelia said quickly, and the little girl's eyes lit up at the offer.

"You're going to spoil me," the older Lucina said with a smirk.

"It's no trouble," Cordelia insisted. "All the tools are still in the barracks, since we've been making javelins lately."

Robin grimaced at that – if there was one place that was likely messier than his library, it would be the old barracks the Shepherds gathered in. Cynthia's new Pegasus knights now shared the barracks with the Shepherds, and the last time Robin had visited, it was littered with everything from board games and cards to empty bottles. At least Robin _tried_ to keep the library orderly. The concept was lost entirely upon the garrison's new residents.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to keep woodcarving tools in the barracks?" Robin asked nervously. "You remember the torch incident, don't you?" During one particularly rowdy celebration, one of the tables had collapsed, and Gregor and Sully, both quite inebriated, had begun sparring with the table legs. An extremely drunk Vaike had joined eagerly with the nearest object at hand – a torch. It would've probably ended without too much more damage, had Morgan not mischievously decided to practice her control of fire magic at that exact moment, to Lucina's consternation.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Do you think I'm crazy, Robin? They're locked away of course, as well as all the weapons."

"And there's a blanket ban on fire magic in the barracks, for the same reason," the older Lucina added, with a hard stare in Morgan's direction.

Morgan looked at them sheepishly. "Hey, I tried to help put it out, didn't I?"

"With wind magic," Severa said, familiar with the tale and amused by her sister's absentmindedness. "You know, I can't believe after all the books you read, you thought putting out a fire was just like blowing out a candle."

"It slipped my mind a little bit," Morgan admitted with a nervous laugh, as they finally reached the banquet hall. All of them were momentarily deafened by the sudden chorus of greetings as they entered the hall. The rest of the royal family were already there, as were both Feroxi khans, and all of the current Shepherds. Virion, Cherche, and Olivia had all travelled from their new home in Roseanne, bearing a young Inigo. The older Inigo and his partner, Brady, were there, too, having accompanied the khans from Ferox where their dance and song duet had earned them many fans. A younger Brady was present as well, held gently by Maribelle.

A large pile of gifts had quickly accumulated on one of the tables, while the Shepherds doted on the adorable birthday girl. Robin began to wonder whether their cozy home would actually have room for the assortment of goods. At least the various books could be added to the library collection instead. Robin wasn't entirely sure if Basilio was anticipating baby Morgan to be as obsessed with reading as her older self and father, or if the resourceful khan was just taking the opportunity to be rid of old books taking up space in the western castle of Regna Ferox.

"Really, Gregor," Cordelia scolded, as the mercenary placed a poorly wrapped wooden sword on top of the pile. "She just turned one! What were you thinking?"

"Gregor is thinking Morgan become great warrior, like lovely mother, yes?" Gregor said, grinning unabashed. Robin laughed at his wife's exasperation with the mercenary, even as he silently noted that the sword would have to be hidden away from the younger Severa, who had an unfortunate habit of teasing her baby sister.

Thankfully, at Robin's request, Chrom had kept the feast from becoming too extravagant. But there was still a large variety of roasted meats, fresh fruits, and pies, and pretty soon the birthday gathering began to resemble a family reunion of sorts. Not that Morgan or her family resented it; Robin and Cordelia both knew quite well that loyal and caring friends and relatives were more valuable than any gift ever could be.

Robin's eyes wander to the portraits hanging on the wall, all the way around the hallway. Libra was quite the artist, and the exalt had requested a collection of artwork in honor of their company. Each of the Shepherds could be seen in at least one of the portraits. It had taken some urging, but Libra even added a self-portrait, shared with Lady Tiki. Basilio and Flavia were visible, too, as was Queen Say'ri of Chon'sin, depicted along with Duke Virion and his family. Finally, Robin's gaze came to a rest upon a portrait hanging between one of his own family, complete with Cordelia holding baby Morgan, and one of Chrom's family drawn ronly a few months back, right after Cynthia was born.

"Are you watching, Lady Emmeryn?" Robin asked quietly, noting how lifelike the former exalt's eyes were in the painting. "I wish you could have found your way back, too. If only the gods could have been as kind to you as they've been to me."

Only Chrom overheard Robin's quiet thoughts. "Don't worry, Robin," he said with a reassuring smile. "I never thought this day would come, but Emmeryn's legacy is secure. She's at peace now. I know it."

"Yeah," Robin agreed, nodding, as he looked around at the joyous gathering again, knowing that the happiness and peace each of them had found was representative of the world around them.

At least once a month, Robin visited the memorial site that had been erected just beyond the city proper. The statue of Lady Emmeryn, the many graves for the fallen defenders of Ylisstol, and the memorial stones for the former Ylissean Pegasus knights and the Ylissean and Feroxi soldiers who had perished in Valm reminded him just how great the price of their victory was. Protecting the hard-earned peace was an endless chore in itself.

Robin's gazed turned to his own youngest daughter, now a year old, and he thought of the countless others in the realm who would live out their lives in peace now. "It was all worth it," Robin decided.

* * *

><p><strong>The Newly Exalted and the Queen of Flowers<strong>

After Grima's defeat, Prince Chrom grudgingly accepted the title of exalt. His unflinching perseverance through countless hardships made Exalt Chrom a beacon of hope for his people. Though he remained uncomfortable with the trappings of the throne, he took comfort in the perpetual love and support of his queen, and the family that surrounded him.

* * *

><p><strong>The Wary Guardian and the Sprightly Princess<strong>

As Ylisse's new knight captain, Frederick took charge of keeping the peace in Ylisstol and training new recruits. His wife's unending optimism and contagious smiles rubbed off on the formerly cold man, and few forgot his glowing smile and idle quips, even as he doled out tasks that would break a wyvern. Princess Lissa often visited him and his charges during their training to offer them kind and encouraging words.

* * *

><p><strong>The Village Hero and the Crimson Knight<strong>

Donnel returned to his tiny village to live a quiet life with his mother, hoping that he would never have to take up arms again. Sully, determined to see the world she had dedicated her career and life to protect, resigned her commission as an Ylissean knight, and accompanied Donnel to his village. She later established a militia much like the Shepherds to arm the villagers against the persistent threat of brigands.

* * *

><p><strong>The Archest Archer and the Shrinking Violet<strong>

Not long after the celebrations came to an end, Virion returned home to Roseanne. Though many still labeled him a traitor and coward, his actions in fighting alongside the Shepherds, first against the Valmese Empire, and later against the fell dragon, bought him a measure of acceptance. He cared little for his reputation, and was content living a quiet life alongside his wife, Olivia, and their young son, Inigo. As he dedicated his life and efforts to rebuilding Roseanne, he found the respect of his people once more.

* * *

><p><strong>The Viridian Knight and the Flamboyant Hero<strong>

Stahl continued his service as a Shepherd, lending his experiences as a veteran of many battles to the task of keeping the peace across Ylisse. His placid nature and scatterbrained charm made him a favorite hero of the people. Similarly, Vaike remained with the Shepherds, enjoying the adventurous life full of epic tales that were at least partially true. His unflinching self-assurance could be infuriating, at times, but proved its value time and time again in their endless quest to protect their kingdom.

* * *

><p><strong>The Rapier Intellect and the Elucidator<strong>

Miriel remained in Ylisstol, advising the exalt and his queen. Her penchant towards eloquent and incomprehensible explanations remained, as did her inquisitive nature. A young man, who was oddly tolerant of her eccentricity, offered his assistance and joined her in her endeavors. To the exalt's dismay, Miriel's assistant proved nearly as inscrutable as Miriel herself was.

* * *

><p><strong>The Oft Forgotten<strong>

After the battle ended, Kellam returned to his hometown to see his family. After his sojourn home, he returned to Ylisstol, where the new knight captain guiltily realized they had forgotten their old friend entirely. Still, Kellam found his place among the Ylissean Royal Guard soon enough.

* * *

><p><strong>The Gynophobe and the Swell Sword<strong>

Lon'qu and Gregor returned to Regna Ferox, to continue their service as the champions for the west and east khans respectively. The two were evenly matched, and the title of the reigning khan passed back and forth for a time, as both khans tried desperately to find an even stronger fighter. The rivalry came to an abrupt end when Lon'qu mysteriously decided to leave to see more of the world.

* * *

><p><strong>The Upcoming Mage and the Dark Sorceress<strong>

Ricken and Tharja remained in Ylisstol, furthering their own studies while they trained others in the art of magic. Neither of them ever hesitated to offer their help to the exalt, their old friends, or the new Shepherds. Some say that Tharja's obsession with the Ylissean grandmaster never subsided.

* * *

><p><strong>The Redeemed Rogue and the Dire Damsel<strong>

Gaius and Maribelle returned to Themis not long after Brady was born, although both of them often returned to visit their friends in Ylisstol. Seeing the exalt's trust in Gaius, Duke Themis insisted upon grooming his son-in-law as his successor, even as his daughter became a respected magistrate, renowned for demanding justice equally for nobles and commoners alike.

* * *

><p><strong>The Eternal Youth<strong>

Nowi stayed in Ylisstol for some time, remaining beside those content to remain in the city as her friends began to drift across the world. Soon, she became bored of the rather quiet and uneventful life, and set out, travelling across the kingdoms, and even across the ocean to Valm, to visit each of her friends in turn.

* * *

><p><strong>The Fetching Friar<strong>

As the new Church of the Divine Dragon took shape, Libra, remembering his own cruel childhood, directed his attention to the many children across the continent who had lost their parents in the war. He established an orphanage in Ylisstol, and though the accommodations were modest, many an unfortunate child found the joy and warmth of family within. Though Sumia and Cordelia were busy with their own children and lives, in deference to their own troubled beginnings, they often visited the war monk to offer what help they could.

* * *

><p><strong>The Secret Seller<strong>

Anna remained comfortably situated in Castle Ylisse's grounds, using her many connections to bring exotic goods from afar, and manage her shared investments with her many siblings and cousins. Still, the free-spirited woman oft disappeared with nary a word for weeks at a time.

* * *

><p><strong>The Wyvern Friend<strong>

Cherche and her beloved Minerva returned to Roseanne with Duke Virion and his wife, serving them loyally. Her staunch support did much in helping Virion find acceptance among his alienated people. Rider and wyvern were never seen apart.

* * *

><p><strong>The Twisted Mind<strong>

After Grima's demise, Henry made a cold, clean break with history, and lived quietly in Ylisstol, willingly assisting Miriel, Ricken, and Tharja whenever their pursuits of knowledge were stymied by an encounter with dark magic beyond their ken. His unparalleled gift with curses proved invaluable to their studies.

* * *

><p><strong>The Blade Queen<strong>

After returning to Chon'sin, Say'ri worked tirelessly with the other dynasts to secure a peaceful future for the Valmese continent. Still, she never once forgot the Shepherds, and despite the incredible distance that separated them, Say'ri made time to visit her old friends across the ocean.

* * *

><p><strong>The Divine Voice<strong>

Exhausted from the war, Tiki made her new home on Mount Prism. After the renovations were complete, she slept for days, protected by the loyal priests of Naga. Afterward, she remained in the new temple, where she visited the graciously welcomed pilgrims personally.

* * *

><p><strong>The Intrepid Khan and the Khan Lioness<strong>

With Grima a done deed, both Basilio and Flavia returned to Ferox and their never-ending political struggle. Even as their champions proved to be equally matched, both sought out old friends and strangers alike in a hope of finding an even stronger warrior willing to champion them in the arena.

* * *

><p><strong>The Foreseer and the Gift from Afar<strong>

Though the Ylissean grandmaster reluctantly retained his title of hierarch, his adventuring days were over. Lucina willingly succeeded him in leading the Shepherds. None outside of her friends knew the truth of her relationship to the exalt's family, and many whispers pointed toward her being a distant cousin. Needing a tactician, Lucina offered the post to Morgan. Morgan's memory never returned, and no one knew where she had truly come from, but she didn't seem to mind, and was content to remain beside her family and friends who accepted her all the same.

* * *

><p><strong>The Chosen One<strong>

Owain's thirst for adventure had not yet been slaked, and he eagerly joined the new Shepherds as they ventured forth to protect the realm. Owain's reputation and theatrics soon rivalled even the boisterous Vaike, and as he made his name, many believed that Princess Lissa chose to name her son after the mysterious hero that accompanied the Shepherds.

* * *

><p><strong>The Dancer and the Bard<strong>

Though he had been invited to return to Valm with his family, Inigo chose instead to remain with his friend, Brady, who likewise decided against returning to Themis. The two of them ventured to Ferox, where their performances as a dancer and violinist earned them a reputation that both men found more palatable than their part in the war.

* * *

><p><strong>The Hero Chaser and the Secret Dreamer<strong>

After pleading with her father, Cynthia became the captain of the reconstituted Pegasus knights. Skilled as she was, her inexperience made her a rather unsuitable leader, though she compensated through persistence, with the help of her mother, and with the help of the legendary Pegasus knight, Lady Cordelia. Surprisingly enough, Severa agreed to enlist in the Pegasus knights. She feigned reluctance, but her family and friends could tell that she was glad for an excuse to remain close to her friends and family.

* * *

><p><strong>The Recusant and the Knight Paragon<strong>

Not even peacetime and parenthood could dull the lovely Cordelia's knightly edge. She lent her considerable experiences and talents to Cynthia and Severa in rebuilding the Pegasus knights. She was commonly seen among the training grounds in Castle Ylisse, too, and soon became a figurehead for all Ylissean warriors. Even so, she never once neglected an opportunity to spend time with her family. Her romantic side came to light, as well. A new love story, much like those she and her best friend adored, had begun to circulate from a performance act by a certain dancer and violinist. To her chagrin, the story of two gifted warriors who fell in love, but believed their feelings to be unrequited until the eve of the wedding of their best friends, became one of the most well-known songs throughout Ylisse.

Meanwhile, the legendary exploits of her husband, Robin, filled many a saga and delighted children hungry for a dashing tale of heroism. He remained in Ylisstol with his family, seemingly content with a simple life, and few could reconcile the image of the unassuming librarian with the tales of the hero who conquered death and extinguished the fell dragon. The many accounts of Robin's origins and character varied, and the scholars, poets, and bards could agree on one thing alone – he loved his wife, Cordelia, above all else.


End file.
